


Someone Else

by yourebrilliant



Series: The Flipside 'Verse [2]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M, Pete's World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 24,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourebrilliant/pseuds/yourebrilliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stranded in another universe, the Doctor and Rose must make a new life for themselves. Who will they be?</p><p> </p><p>  <b>Heads Up: Although not intended as RPF, the fic contains references to real life and the Doctor Who actors. </b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pow Wow

As everyone around them smiled and laughed, those who had travelled with the Doctor using their limited knowledge to steer the TARDIS, two pairs of brown eyes met over the console and an understanding as strong as telepathy passed between them. There was so little time, and so much to say.

 

The half doctor left first, with Donna flirting with Jack and Rose grinning at the original there was no one to notice him go. After a moment the Doctor excused himself and left the console room. In the hallway outside, he found the half doctor waiting quietly, standing in the shadows just listening to the TARDIS.

‘Kitchen?’ the Doctor suggested, speaking quietly so they wouldn’t be overheard. The half doctor nodded solemnly and followed him. Opening the first door he came to, the Doctor found himself looking at the bare whitewashed walls of the small console kitchen that Rose had used to cook for them when they travelled together. Martha was used to hospital food, and Donna would never have even considered cooking for them, so it had been a while since this kitchen had been used for anything except cups of tea and morning coffee.

They settled themselves awkwardly in the small sparse room, deliberately taking different stances; the original sitting at the kitchen table with his head resting in his hand, the half doctor leaning against the cupboards, legs crossed at the ankles. Silently they watched each other for a moment, so different, and so similar.

‘How does it feel?’ the Doctor asked quietly.

The half doctor swallowed compulsively before speaking. ‘Odd,’ he responded, his voice also low. ‘One heart, it’s like half a samba,’ an empty smile quirked his lips as he tried for humour and failed. There was no point in bluffing with the one person who could see right through him.

The Doctor smiled anyway, understanding everything he didn’t say.

‘So,’ the Doctor said, sitting straighter, ‘we’ve got some things to discuss.’

The half doctor nodded, shifting awkwardly against the cupboards, his hands moving from the countertops to the dimensionally transcendental pockets of his blue suit. ‘Rose,’ he commented, ‘and the Daleks. And me,’ he continued, ‘and...’

‘Donna,’ the Doctor said, finishing where his counterpart failed. As important as Donna was to him, she must be even more precious to this man, who was part of her, linked to her in a way the Doctor could never understand. The Doctor sighed; already they were different, their histories splitting, their paths divided.

‘She can’t stay like this,’ the half doctor said, sniffing sharply against a welling of emotion. Must be his human half; Time Lords didn’t go about blubbing at the thought of leaving humans behind. ‘There’s a reason human/Time Lord metacrises don’t exist.’

‘Because they can’t,’ the Doctor agreed. ‘I’ll wipe the knowledge from her brain.’

‘You’ll have to take it all,’ the other doctor informed him, ‘all the memories, all the travels, all the way back to Christmas.’

The Doctor was incredulous. ‘But, it’s knowledge, knowledge she shouldn’t have, surely I can just wipe that out, bit of a rest, good as new.’

The half doctor shook his head. ‘I’ve been in there,’ he explained, ‘it’s rooted in. Deep. It’s been linked with memories and sights, sounds, everything. From all the time we’ve been together. If she remembers any of it, she’ll burn up.’

‘So,’ the Doctor sighed, ‘I’ll have to send her-’

‘...home,’ his counterpart finished. ‘Back to Sylvia and Wilf. They’ll look after her.’ The two doctors crossed gazes and shared a million moments without a single word. All the times they’d watched someone leave, all the fresh starts that ended the same way. ‘Rose,’ the half doctor croaked, breaking the silence.

‘The other universe,’ the Doctor decided. ‘Her family’s there, her dad. And she’s dead here, it’d be too difficult for her to,’ he paused, ‘start again.’ There was a moment where the Doctor steeled himself for his next words. ‘But she needs someone, and so do you.’

The human doctor raised his head sharply. ‘You’d leave me...with Rose?’

The Doctor smiled archly. ‘One of us should get to have that adventure. And besides, you’re not safe on your own. Rose’ll make sure you’re okay.’

The other doctor laughed harshly. ‘If she’ll have me,’ he said, his flippant tone masking the fear that rushed through him. ‘It’s you she wants.’

‘No,’ the Doctor said, his tone light. ‘No, I really think it’s you. A Doctor who can give her the whole of his life, in return for all of hers. That’s something I can’t do. And the Daleks,’ the Doctor said, swallowing awkwardly, shying away from the emotion welling inside him.

‘I know I shouldn’t have-’ the human doctor began.

‘Thank you,’ the Doctor said, standing from the table to place his hands on either side of the other doctor’s shoulders. ‘Thank you for what I couldn’t do.’ He reached out and pulled the other doctor close, holding him like a brother, like a father, his gesture imbued with pride and a gratitude that neither could properly voice. Startled, the other doctor hugged him back.

‘Doctor?’ Donna’s strident voice resounded down the corridor, and the two broke apart, smiling at each other.

‘You go first,’ the other doctor said, looking down and scrubbing at one eye. ‘I’ve got something in my eye.’

The Doctor gave a watery chuckle. ‘Must be the dust motes in this kitchen,’ he commented. ‘I’ve got it too.’ Swiping at his eyes and sniffing loudly, the Doctor left the room calling. ‘I’m coming, I’m coming. God, you’re loud.’


	2. A Way Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

‘So there we are, sinking into a core of Z-Neutrino energy, windows blasting, fires raging, and Donna just sits there, eyes closed, refusing to move ‘till I put some clothes on!’ Rose smiled up at the Doctor, trying not to laugh at the indignation in his voice. ‘Kept muttering about skinny aliens and how she’d never get that image out of her brain.’  
  
Biting her lip to hold back the laughter, Rose reached out and patted the Doctor’s hand, where it lay against the TARDIS console. ‘She’s just in denial,’ she said, smiling at him warmly.  
  
The Doctor flushed and started to stutter some reply, but he was cut off when Rose noticed Mickey hugging her mum, over his shoulder.  
  
‘What’s he doing?’ she muttered to herself. ‘Excuse me,’ she said absently as she moved past the bemused Doctor and over to where Mickey was about to walk down the ramp.  
  
‘Mickey!’ she called.  
  
He turned back, smiling at her. ‘Rose?’ he said.  
  
Rose stared at him for a moment, not sure what to say. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.  
  
Mickey sighed, and looked her straight in the eye. ‘I’m going,’ he said calmly.  
  
‘But, why?’ Rose asked. ‘I thought you were gonna go back, with Mum.’  
  
He nodded sadly. ‘I know, Rose, but this is my chance. This is my way out.’  
  
‘But-’ Rose began, but Mickey cut her off.  
  
‘I can’t go back, Rose,’ he said quietly, his eyes intense and sad. ‘After everything with Jake, it’s,’ he paused, swallowing against the lump in his throat, ‘it’s just too hard.’  
  
‘Mickey it’s been more than a _year_ ,’ Rose said. ‘Haven’t you-’ She stopped short, her lips clamped tightly shut over the end of that sentence as she realised what she’d been about to say. ‘What’ll you do?’ she asked, after a moments silence had passed between them.  
  
Mickey laughed and jerked a thumb in the direction of the TARDIS doors. ‘Work for Torchwood,’ he said calmly. ‘I’m sure I can talk Captain Cheesecake into giving me a job.’  
  
‘I’m gonna miss you,’ Rose said, tears building in her eyes.  
  
‘Hey,’ Mickey said, chucking her under the chin. ‘We’re still in the same universe. Come say hi sometime.’  
  
Rose managed a watery smile. ‘You’re right,’ she said calmly. She reached out and hugged him. ‘Thank you,’ she said, as she held him tight.  
  
‘No probs,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I better go,’ he said, pulling away. ‘Your man’ll be back soon and I’ll’ve missed my chance.’ He smiled at her and started to walk backward down the ramp. ‘Bye Jackie,’ he called.  
  
Jackie smiled and waved. ‘Goodbye, love,’ she said warmly.  
  
‘Bye Rose,’ he said quietly.  
  
Rose smiled. ‘We’ll visit soon,’ she called.  
  
He gave one last wave and stepped out of the ship.  
  
Jackie stepped forward and wrapped her daughter in a hug. Outside they could hear Mickey talking to the original Doctor.  
  
‘It’s for the best love,’ Jackie said calmly.  
  
‘I know,’ Rose said quietly. ‘He’ll be happier here.’ She smiled at her mum. ‘I’m sure I’ll see him again soon,’ she said happily.  
  
The door to the TARDIS creaked open and the original Doctor loped up the ramp. ‘It’s time for one last trip,’ he said quietly, reaching for the monitor, ‘Darlig Ulv Stranden. Better known as,’ he flicked a switch and the TARDIS began to dematerialise, ‘Bad Wolf Bay.’


	3. On The Beach

As the sound of the TARDIS dematerialising faded into the lapping of waves on that lonely beach, Rose became aware of the Doctor’s hand holding hers. Remembering how she had kissed him and then run from him in the space of a minute, she felt ashamed.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly, looking at their joined hands instead of his oh-so-familiar face.

‘Why?’ he asked, thin eyebrows shooting upwards.

‘For...that,’ she said, gesturing vaguely to where they had been standing moments ago.

‘The running?’ he asked softly, his single heart beating wildly with fear, ‘or the kissing?’

She looked up at him then, her beautiful face lit up with a smile like he hadn’t seen for far too long. ‘The running, you prawn,’ she said, shoving him gently with her shoulder.

‘Oh, I’m so glad that’s catching on,’ he commented sarcastically, referring to Donna’s very respectful term of endearment. ‘And it’s okay,’ he added quietly. ‘This is...confusing, for both of us.’

‘But we’ll figure it out, yeah?’ Rose asked, brushing the loose hair off her face as the wind whipped around them. ‘Together.’

‘Better with two, right?’ he responded, grinning at her.

‘Are you two coming or are you trying to get frostbite?’ Jackie called, her harsh tones resounding in the open air.

‘Let’s go home,’ Rose said, letting go of his hand to turn round only to grab it again as soon as they were facing the right way. The Doctor smiled at this, glad to see that she really did need him as much as he needed her.

‘Home,’ he said, carefully pronouncing the word, as if he’d never heard it before. ‘Home,’ he said again. ‘Where’s that then? In this world, I mean.’

‘Well,’ Rose said, as they made their way across the beach, supporting each other in the soft sand, ‘I have been living at the big house, with mum and dad.’ The Doctor’s eyes widened at the thought of living with Jackie. ‘But,’ Rose continued, trying not to laugh at his expression.

‘Yes, but?’ the Doctor asked eagerly, clinging to this one conjunction like a life raft.

‘I was thinking we should get a flat when we get back. Together,’ she added.

The Doctor beamed. ‘That sounds nice,’ he agreed. ‘Not a big one, just a little one. Only need a little one, if it’s just us. You and me.’

‘Just us two,’ Rose agreed, smiling at him.

‘Come on you two!’ Jackie called again. ‘If you don’t hurry up my baby’s gonna be motherless after I freeze to death on this bloody beach.’

As they ambled over, risking their lives with a potentially fatal disregard for Jackie’s temper, the Doctor leaned over and whispered, ‘How quickly can you buy flats in this universe?’

Rose burst out laughing, thumping him lightly with her free hand, and twisting her body round so she could muffle her laughter in his unfamiliar blue jacket. The Doctor looked down at her and grinned happily.


	4. Norway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

By the time they had made their way over to Jackie, she was on the phone.

‘What? Oh you’ve got to be joking. Alright. No, love,’ she chuckled, ‘it’s not your fault. We’ll just have to do it the long way. Alright, pet. See you soon. Kiss kiss.’

Rose raised her eyebrows at her mum, who was shutting the phone off with a huff. ‘What’s wrong, mum?’ she asked carefully.

‘Zeppelin’s out of commission,’ Jackie said, checking her phone. ‘Tell you something, you get a really good signal on this beach.’

‘Why? What happened?’ Rose asked, concerned.

Briefly Jackie looked thunderous. ‘Torchwood,’ she muttered direfully.

‘What happened with-‘ the Doctor began, but Rose grabbed his arm and shook her head quickly.

‘Don’t ask,’ she mouthed.

‘So,’ the Doctor said, rubbing his hands together. ‘What’s plan B?’

‘We’ll just have to take a plane,’ Jackie said, sighing and frowning at the sand beginning to encrust itself to her white trainers.

‘No,’ the Doctor said, grinning delightedly, ‘really?’

‘Yes,’ Rose said slowly, wondering what was making the Doctor so happy.

‘Brilliant!’ he cried, his whole face alight with joy.

‘Why?’ Rose asked, curiously.

He grinned at her some more, bouncing on his toes. ‘I’ve never been on a plane,’ he beamed.

Jackie groaned. ‘Two hour flight with him bouncing away like Tigger?’ she asked rhetorically. ‘Give me strength.’

Rose grinned, and started after her mother.

‘Hang on a minute!’ the Doctor called suddenly. The Tyler women turned as one to see him standing, heels sinking slightly in the soft sand, digging in one of the pockets of his blue suit.

‘Doctor,’ Rose said quietly, ‘it’s not a short walk, we really should go soon.’

‘Hang on, hang on,’ the Doctor cried frantically. ‘I know it’s here somewhere.’ Jackie watched, fascinated, as his entire arm disappeared into the pocket. ‘Ah ha!’ he cried suddenly, his fingers closing around the item and drawing it out.

Triumphantly he held it up for them to see.

‘Doctor,’ Rose said softly, ‘is that a...’

‘Disposable camera!’ the Doctor said happily. ‘Great invention. Couple of pounds away you go!’

‘Yeah, but,’ Rose looked at him oddly, ‘why do you want a photo now?’

‘Brand new life, Rose,’ he said gently. ‘Brand new beginning. And this is where it all started!’ Grinning again, he spread his arms wide, spinning around on one heel.

‘Oh stop dancing around and take the picture,’ Jackie said. ‘I’d like to get out of here before the sun sets.’

‘Right,’ he said quickly. ‘Right, right. Good point. Now Rose,’ he said, coming to stand next to her. ‘You stand there.’ He positioned her about a millimetre from where she had already been standing. Rose smiled. ‘And I’ll stand here,’ he stood close beside her, and Rose could feel all the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in reaction to his proximity. ‘And Jackie-’

‘I know,’ Jackie interrupted. ‘Jackie take the picture. Now, where do you want it?’ she asked, reaching out for the camera.

The Doctor pulled his hand back. ‘And Jackie,’ he repeated, ‘you stand here,’ he said, gesturing to the space on the other side of him.

‘You mean, you want me in the picture?’ Jackie asked, shocked.

‘You were here, weren’t you?’ the Doctor asked. ‘Where it all started. So you’re in the picture.’ Jackie smiled happily and slotted herself into place. The Doctor winced a little at her closeness and handed the camera to Rose. ‘Right, hold it out in front of you,’ he instructed. Rose fiddled around, getting her finger on the button and then extended her hand as far as she could. ‘Little higher,’ the Doctor commented. She moved her arm. ‘Higher.’ Rose lifted her arm. ‘And again,’ he said.

Rose sighed. ‘Doctor, my arm’s beginning to hurt.’

The Doctor sighed back. ‘Oh alright,’ he muttered, ‘I’ll just crouch.’ Leaning forward, he rested his head on Rose’s shoulder, his warm breath tickling her ear as he said, ‘Now, everybody, on three, say “Norway”. ‘One.’

Rose shifted her arm slightly.

‘Two.’

Jackie rolled her eyes.

‘Three!’

‘NORWAY!’ They yelled, grinning like fools, on a windswept beach in the middle of nowhere. Rose started to laugh.

‘You alright?’ the Doctor asked, dropping the camera back into his pocket.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, smiling up at him. Because I’ve got you, she didn’t say.

‘On we go, then,’ he said, grabbing her hand.

‘Good idea,’ Rose said, grinning, as they ran, full pelt, towards the distant figure of Jackie Tyler.


	5. Sleepover

Wrapping a towel around her hair, Rose wandered out of the hotel bathroom just in time to see the Doctor close the bedroom door. Shocked, she clutched at the neck of the fluffy hotel dressing gown, frozen in place as he shucked out of his blue jacket and tossed it on the armchair. They were staying in an airport hotel overnight, waiting for the early morning flight that would take the three of them back to London. And, apparently, she and the Doctor were to be sharing a room.

Suddenly the Doctor turned towards the bed and caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. ‘Rose!’ he said, surprised. ‘Sorry, have I got the wrong - thought this was my room,’ he scrabbled in his jacket for the pass key. ‘Key worked on the door,’ he muttered, ‘I’ll have to speak to them about...’ he tailed off as he compared the number on the key with the number printed on the hotel room door. ‘Ehm, no,’ he said, turning back to her, ‘this is the room number on the key.’

‘Mum,’ she muttered.

‘What?’ he asked, slotting the pass key back into his jacket pocket and ruffling his hair anxiously.

‘I bet Mum booked us both into the same room,’ Rose explained, tugging at the robe tie that was drifting apart.

‘Why would she do that?’ the Doctor asked, surprised. ‘Not that I don’t want to, I mean, obviously I wouldn’t presume, but I don’t want you to think that-’

‘It’s alright,’ Rose said, smiling; he certainly sounded like her Doctor. ‘It’s just Mum, interfering again.’

‘Ah,’ the Doctor said, reaching out for his coat. ‘Right, well, I’ll go and see the...’ he gestured to the door with his coat.

‘You’re going?’ Rose asked, disappointed.

‘Well, I didn’t think you’d want to...’ the Doctor scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘D’you want me to stay?’ he asked quietly.

‘Would you?’ Rose asked, reaching up to tug the towel from around her head. The Doctor looked over as the long blonde hair drifted down around her face, and felt something powerful and unusual stir inside him.

‘Of course,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll just, uhm,’ dropping his jacket onto the chair, he started pulling it round until it faced the other armchair. Looking at him, Rose could see his lips move as he strode between the chairs, pacing out a distance, shuffling the chairs backwards and forwards a minute distance each time.

‘What are you doing?’ Rose asked quietly.

‘I’m just uhm’ he looked at her over his shoulder, ‘I’m...staying,’ he said, gesturing to the chairs.

‘You’re sleeping on those armchairs?’ Rose asked, incredulously. ‘You can’t sleep there; you’ll hurt your back.’

‘Well,’ the Doctor said looking back at the chairs, ‘I suppose. I just thought the floor would be a bit cold.’

Rose smiled at him gently. ‘Um, there is another option,’ she said quietly.

‘Is there?’ the Doctor twisted on one heel, staring round the small room in confusion. ‘What?’

Blushing a little, Rose gestured to the bed.

‘Oh, well, of course,’ he said, nodding, ‘but I couldn’t sleep there, where would you...’ he tailed off as he understood her meaning. ‘You mean...share?’ he asked, surprised.

‘If you wanted,’ Rose said, looking away. ‘I mean, not for anything. Just, you know, sleeping. I thought it would be a bit more comfy than the chairs. Never mind,’ she said, laughing nervously, ‘stupid idea.’

‘No!’ the Doctor said quickly, ‘no, that’d be fine. If you don’t mind.’

‘I don’t mind, if you don’t.’ Rose said, smiling at him.

‘Right,’ the Doctor said, reaching for the edge of his t-shirt, ‘well, I’ll just...’ tugging the t-shirt out of his trousers, the Doctor hauled it over his head. Rose focused very hard on not staring at the Doctor’s naked chest. Looking at the floor, she finger combed her half-dry hair, limiting herself to one quick peek through her eyelashes as he reached overhead to settle hair ruffled by the t-shirt. ‘Ehm, are you going to,’ he gestured awkwardly to Rose’s robe.

‘Oh, right,’ she said. ‘I’ll just wear my - oh drat!’ she muttered, looking anxiously round the room.

‘What?’ the Doctor asked confused, suddenly noticing the absence of clothes in the room. ‘Ah,’ he said quietly.

‘Mum came in earlier,’ Rose sighed, ‘she was muttering about hotel laundry and the other Doctor only leaving us with what we arrived in,’ she explained. ‘I wasn’t really listening, cause I was in the shower at the time.’ Rose blushed as she realised that she was talking to the Doctor about her showering. The Doctor frowned as he felt that bizarre stirring again, wondering if there could’ve been some strange side-effect from the biological metacrisis. It would be just like Donna to leave him with some hideous human illness. Rose was still speaking. ‘I’ll have to wear the dressing gown, I guess,’ she muttered.

‘You could have this,’ the Doctor said, grabbing his t-shirt and holding it out. ‘It should be big enough, I mean long enough, for you, if you want.’

‘Thanks!’ Rose said, smiling with relief and reaching out for the t-shirt. ‘I usually sleep in a t-shirt anyway, so-’

Suddenly Rose broke off in horror. Why was she telling the Doctor about her night wear? Okay he was her Doctor, but still. Her Doctor, what a thought. Grabbing the t-shirt from his hand, she retreated to the bathroom, trying very hard not to think about the possibilities of having a her Doctor for the rest of her life.

In the main room, the Doctor took a lot of calming breaths, before pulling off his shoes and socks and climbing into the large, soft bed. He had just pulled the covers up, when Rose emerged from the bathroom, and he forgot how to breathe again.

His dark red t-shirt swamped her, falling to mid-thigh and covering most of her upper arms. Her long blonde hair was almost dry, the natural wave evident without her straightening irons and hair products. It reminded him of the way she’d looked when they first met. Worried at the return of those strange feelings, the Doctor rolled onto his side, and resolved to eat something as soon as possible.

Nervously tucking her loose hair behind one ear, Rose bit her lip and sighed as the Doctor rolled away from her without even saying goodnight. Pulling back the covers, she climbed into bed and switched off the lamp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is complete and was originally posted at s1-else.livejournal.com. I'll be updating it on here in blocks and chunks when I can. Which should be most weekdays and hopefully a bit at the weekend.


	6. Sense Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

In the bathroom, Rose quickly shut the door and slid out of her robe. Pulling on the t-shirt, she closed her eyes as the scent of him surrounded her. As the thin, shiny fabric settled against her legs, she breathed it in; the musky scent of the cologne he liked to pretend he didn’t wear, the odd cinnamony smell of his magic hair gel. How many times had she smelled this, squashed against his long body, hugged close in a silent celebration of their escape from yet another life threatening adventure?

Stroking the soft material along her hips, Rose breathed in again. She’d longed, so many times, to smell this scent one more time. Suddenly, she felt vulnerable. Everything had been so vague, so rushed on the bay; no promises had been made. Could she survive, if this scent was taken away again?

There was a creak from the bedroom beyond, and Rose realised she’d been in the bathroom far too long. Taking a deep breath, she hung the bathrobe up behind the door, and headed out into the bedroom.


	7. Dream About Me

Lying in the dark hotel room, the Doctor stared wide-eyed at the ceiling and wondered why sharing a bed with Rose had seemed like a good idea. In truth, he knew why. She’d looked at him with those big brown eyes, so troubled by the day’s events, and he’d had no choice but to stay.

_Sometimes I watch you while you’re sleeping, baby  
Sometimes I see you hold your pillow tight,_

Looking over at the clock on her side of the bed, he saw her beautiful face illuminated in the harsh red light of the digital display and wondered how she could sleep so soundly with the light in her eyes. She looked so peaceful; he wondered what she was dreaming of.

_Am I the one you’re holding onto honey?  
Am I the one who’s in your dreams at night?_

Rolling onto his side, he watched her, wondering what they were going to do now. It seemed like she’d chosen him on the beach. Surely that kiss was real. But was he her perfect man, or her consolation prize?

_You tell me there’s no other, baby,_   
_You tell me I’m the only one,_   
_I wish I knew for certain, baby_   
_You say you love me,_   
_Tell me, honey_   
_Do you dream about me?_

Closing his eyes, he slid a hand under his pillow and wished she wasn’t lying so far away.

 

Two am. Rose sighed as her eyelids fluttered open and the light of the digital clock pierced the darkness. Propping herself up on one elbow she wondered what had woken her up. She rubbed her eyes with one hand and rolled over in the bed.

_Sometimes I know you really love me, baby,  
It’s so much clearer in the light of day_

Smiling, Rose watched the Doctor’s eyelids flicker as he slept. She’d never had the opportunity to really study him up close before, he always seemed to be moving, speaking, watching. Quietly, she shuffled across the bed until she was close enough to see every individual freckle smattering his face. She wondered why he’d stayed. The Doctor, the other Doctor, had made the offer, sure, but he’d been the one who convinced her. The one who promised her a lifetime together. Would he still want that, ten years, twenty years down the line? Or would he make himself another TARDIS and fly away without her?

_Your touch is always reassuring, baby  
You say the words I need to hear you say_

Moving away from him, she reached out and stroked his hand, where it lay on top of his pillow. He had such elegant hands, like a piano player with those long fingers. She wondered what he’d do in this universe. Back to Torchwood probably, they’d love to have his big, giant brain on their side. Would they work together? Seeking out danger and righting wrongs just like before? She almost wished he’d wake up, and tell her he loved her again. It had all seemed so simple when he said those words.

_You tell me there’s no other, baby,_   
_You tell me I’m the only one,_   
_I wish I knew for certain, baby_   
_You say you love me,_   
_Tell me, honey_   
_Do you dream about me?_

Reaching out, she rested her hand on top of his, and closed her eyes again.


	8. Anastacia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

It was the singing that woke her. A full bodied male voice, gargled by shower water, thrumming through the bathroom door. At first she could only hear the tune; _Da-da-da-da, da da-da da da da_ , then, once she’d wriggled out of the warm duvet, she could make out the odd word; _never mm-hm...have to go through_. She smiled; at the fact of the Doctor singing, at the appropriateness of the song, and wandered through to the bathroom.  
  
Steam hit her the moment she opened the door, and she could tell she was going to have to fight for a hot shower in future. The thought that she had a future with this man both terrified and excited her, so she stopped thinking about it. Instead, she hefted herself up on the thick faux-marble sink counter and enjoyed the show.  
  
 _No one told me, I was going to find you_  
  
He was standing directly in the shower’s spray, his head tilted back as he sang into the shower head. His hair was liberally lathered with hotel shampoo and had been shaped into a huge spike on top of his head. Rose laughed silently.  
  
 _Unexpected, what you did to my heart_  
  
He paused for a second, as if the words were suddenly registering. His face, in that moment, was so open that she felt more embarrassed seeing his expression than seeing his skinny body all naked and pink through the transparent shower door.  
  
 _When I lost hope, you were there to remind me,  
This is the start.  
And..._  
  
There was a pause. For a moment he just stood there, head tilted back, frozen in place, and Rose wondered if something was wrong.  
  
‘Doctor?’ she said, just as he muttered, ‘Bugger.’  
  
‘Rose?’ he asked, spinning round in the shower.  
  
She waved from the counter top. ‘Morning.’  
  
He grinned at her. ‘Morning.’  
  
‘So,’ she said, hoping to distract him from realising that she’d been watching him shower, ‘why “Bugger”?’  
  
‘Eh?’ he asked. ‘Oh!’ he realised what she was referring to, and she noticed a very endearing blush spread across his freckled cheeks. ‘Ahem,’ he coughed. ‘I was, uh...’ he tailed off for a moment and then spoke all in a rush. ‘Donna had this song stuck in her head when we went through the instantaneous biological metacrisis and now it’s stuck in mine. It’s driving me bonkers. So I thought,’ he beamed her, as if revealing a brilliant plan, ‘sing it all the way through, loop broken, on with life, see?’  
  
Rose nodded solemnly.  
  
‘Only...’  
  
‘What?’ Rose asked.  
  
He looked annoyed. ‘Only Donna didn’t know all the words!’ he cried. ‘So now it’s stuck!’ He reached up to ruffle his hair and remembered the elegant style it was in. Chuckling a little he stuck his head under the shower to rinse the soap out, while Rose wrestled with herself. Finally she gave in.  
  
‘I know it,’ she said quietly.  
  
‘Eh?’ the Doctor reappeared, shampoo half rinsed, his hair sticking out at all angles, looking surprised.  
  
‘That song,’ she said. She took a deep breath. ‘I know the words.’  
  
‘Really?’ he face lit up. ‘Oh, that is fantastic, that is brilliant!’ She laughed as shower water sprayed against the door from the force of his ‘b’. ‘I’ve got the first couple of verses, but not the chorus. Could you,’ he looked a little shy, ‘would you sing it with me?’  
  
Rose looked startled. She’d only meant to tell him the words; write it down on a bit of hotel paper so he could hum it to himself on the plane. Singing together, in the bathroom, it was like something out of a musical.  
  
‘Yeah,’ she said smiling. She’d always loved musicals.  
  
He started singing. ‘ _We were strangers, starting out on a journey,  
Never dreaming, what we’d have to go through,  
Now here we are, and I’m suddenly standing,  
At the beginning with you_.’  
  
Rose took a deep breath and joined in. ‘ _No one told me, I was going to find you,  
Unexpected, what you did to my heart.  
When I lost hope_ ,’ she looked up and saw him smiling at her through the spray, ‘ _you were there to remind me, this is the start_.’ He looked at her expectantly. ‘ _And life is a road that I wanna keep going,  
Love is a river I wanna keep flowing,  
Life is a road, now and forever,  
Wonderful journey_.’ His eyes widened as he remembered another bit, and he began to sing with her again.  
  
‘ _I’ll be there when the world stops turning,_  
 _I’ll be there when the storm is through,_  
 _In the end I wanna be standing,_  
 _At the beginning, with you...’_  
  
She tailed off, biting her lip against the emotions welling inside her. There was a creak and a splash and suddenly there was a hand under her chin. As he tilted her face up, she opened her eyes to see his warm, understanding gaze. Reaching out, she flung her arms about his waist as he wrapped her in a hug.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ she managed, tears rolling down her face.  
  
‘What did I tell you?’ he murmured into her hair. ‘It’s okay.’  
  
She squeezed him tighter, and he held her close until she was as a wet as he was.  
  
‘Um,’ she pulled back a little, rubbing tears from her face, ‘the rest of the song...’  
  
‘Oh no,’ he said quickly, ‘Donna didn’t know any of the rest. I’m fine now, all gone.’  
  
She smiled up at him, not believing a word. Suddenly, she realised how close he was standing, for someone so naked. Evidently he did too; letting go of her, he quickly reached out and grabbed the nearest bath towel, wrapping it around his waist.  
  
‘Well, time to get dressed, then,’ he said quickly.  
  
Rose slid off the counter and smiled at him. ‘Good idea.’  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: the song is from the end of the 20th Century Fox movie Anastacia.


	9. Moving In

‘This is where you chose?’ Jackie asked, stepping out of Pete’s long shiny car and staring up at the modest block of flats stretching up before her. Closing the car door on the other side, Rose smiled at her mother as she moved round the back of the car to open the boot. Even with her white trainers on, you’d never know Jackie used to live in an estate just like this. Actually, this one was slightly better.  
  
‘It’s not that bad, Mum,’ she said, pulling open the boot and lifting her suitcase out. The Doctor, having no belongings to bring, was standing in front of the car, hands jammed in his trouser pockets, head tilted up to look at the flats, chatting away to Pete. ‘It’s like Powell,’ she added.  
  
‘I know,’ Jackie said, sniffing disapprovingly and turning back to look at Rose. ‘I wanted more than that for you, love. You’re the Vitex heiress,’ she added accusingly. ‘Your Dad and me would’ve been happy to get you a nice house somewhere. Something a bit bigger than this.’  
  
‘He likes it, mum,’ Rose explained, putting the suitcase on the ground. The Doctor, noticing, bounded over.  
  
‘I’ll get that, Rose,’ he said, grinning at her as he grabbed the suitcase.   
  
‘Keys,’ Rose said, as he turned away.  
  
‘Right, yes,’ the Doctor agreed, reaching out a hand for the keys. Rose grinned at him; he was almost dancing with excitement.  
  
Jackie rolled her eyes. ‘Have you been drinking Pete’s espresso again?’ she asked. ‘You know you can’t handle it with your system.’ Rose had never felt the need to mention the Doctor’s traditional triple-espresso day-starter until the morning they discovered that _he’d_ discovered Pete’s espresso maker and decided to continue his morning ritual. Although it had been interesting to see him literally bounce around the room, it was not an experience any of them wanted to repeat. Since then, he’d stuck to a nice cup of tea instead.  
  
‘Nope,’ the Doctor said, still grinning. Rose leaned over and dropped the keys to the flat in his open hand.   
  
Smiling at the Doctor as he bounded away, Rose turned to continue her conversation with her mum. ‘We looked at bigger flats,’ she explained. ‘They made him feel small and lonely. You know I’m gonna be out all day at Torchwood, I don’t want him freaking out when I’m gone.’  
  
‘He wouldn’t be freaking out if he had a job too,’ Jackie said, looking at her pointedly. ‘I thought you were gonna ask him to come to work with you?’  
  
‘I know,’ Rose said. ‘I’m going to speak to him about it. Are you coming up?’ she asked.  
  
‘No, love,’ Jackie said, reaching out to stroke her hair. ‘We’ve got to get back to Tony. You know he doesn’t like to be away from me for long.’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Rose said, smiling and hugging her mum.  
  
‘Are you sure you want to leave now?’ Jackie asked suddenly, holding Rose by the shoulders. ‘We’d be happy for you to stay longer, you know.’  
  
Rose laughed outright. ‘Yeah, right,’ she said. ‘You and the Doctor were nearly at each other’s throats yesterday.’  
  
‘He broke my toaster!’ Jackie cried. ‘I thought he’d be okay without that magic wand of his, but this one’s just as bad as the real Doctor.’  
  
Over Jackie’s shoulder, Rose saw the Doctor approaching; hearing Jackie’s words he came to an abrupt halt, his smile faltering. Rose felt her heart twist for him as she saw the joy flicker in his eyes.  
  
‘See,’ she said to her mother, ‘now your kitchen appliances’ll be safe. I promise,’ she said, as Jackie looked like she might protest, ‘we’ll come over _every_ Sunday for lunch.’  
  
‘Jacks,’ Pete called, shaking the Doctor’s hand and opening the driver’s door, ‘we’ve got to go, Tony’ll be starting to wonder where we are. See you later, love,’ he said, winking at Rose and sliding into the seat.  
  
‘We’ll see you soon, Mum,’ Rose said, hugging her mother again.  
  
‘Oh, here,’ Jackie suddenly said, disentangling herself from Rose and reaching down into the front seat, ‘this is for you.’ Standing again, she handed over a cloth, drawstring bag. Wriggling open the strings, Rose peeped into the bag and found a collection of basic medicines; anti-pyretics, antacids, analgesics and painkillers. Rose smiled at her mother and gave her a peck on the cheek.  
  
‘Thanks, mum,’ she said quietly.  
  
Jackie smiled at her and climbed into the front seat. As Pete started the car and pulled away, Rose and the Doctor waved to Jackie until she was out of sight.  
  
‘So,’ the Doctor said, ‘our new home.’  
  
Rose looked up at him. ‘Yep,’ she said quietly. ‘I haven’t lived with a man for years,’ she commented. The Doctor looked at her curiously, taking her hand and walking towards the flat. ‘Doctor,’ she commented quietly, ‘about what mum said-’  
  
‘Who was he?’ the Doctor asked suddenly.  
  
‘Who was who?’ Rose asked, looking up at him as they climbed the stairs.  
  
‘The man,’ the Doctor said. ‘That you lived with. Who was he?’  
  
‘Oh,’ Rose said, ‘well, he was called Jimmy. Jimmy Stone.’  
  
‘And he was your boyfriend?’  
  
‘Have we really never talked about this before?’ Rose asked surprised.  
  
‘He-we’ve never talked about it,’ the Doctor commented. Digging in his trouser pocket, he pulled out the key to the flat. ‘So?’ he asked.  
  
‘Ehm, no,’ Rose said, ‘Not my boyfriend.’ Was it her imagination or did the Doctor seem to perk up. ‘He was my fiancé.’  
  
‘What?’ the Doctor asked, half in the open doorway.  
  
‘He was my fiancé,’ she repeated, giving him a gentle shove to get him to move into the flat. ‘He’s not now,’ she added.  
  
‘I should hope not,’ the Doctor commented indignantly. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.’  
  
Rose laughed sharply. ‘Me?’ she asked incredulously. ‘What about you, Mr I’ve-been-a-father?’ Still wearing her coat, Rose strode through to their tiny bathroom to put away the contents of her mother’s gift. She was closing the medicine cabinet door, when she heard a shuffling of feet and the Doctor’s quiet cough. Turning round she saw him leaning against the open door.  
  
‘Sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re right. I guess I just thought I knew everything about you.’  
  
‘Well,’ she said, walking over to wrap her arms around his waist, ‘isn’t it just as well you don’t?’ The Doctor looked at her, bewildered. ‘We need something to talk about when there’s nothing on TV,’ she explained. He smiled. ‘And, Doctor,’ she added; something in her tone obviously alerted him to her next comment, he tried to move away but she squeezed him tighter, ‘no matter what Mum said; coat or no coat, screwdriver or no screwdriver, blue suit, brown suit, you’re still the Doctor. My Doctor,’ she added, reaching up to kiss him.   
  
Bending down he wrapped his arms around her, taking comfort in her declaration and her touch. One hand slid into her long blonde hair, pulling her closer. Taking her hands from his face, Rose slid them inside his jacket, reaching up to caress his broad shoulder bones. Stroking her way down his spine, she linked her arms around his slender waist, pulling him as close to her as possible. Suddenly he pulled away.  
  
‘Food!’ he cried suddenly.  
  
‘What?’ Rose asked, still dazed from the aborted kiss.  
  
‘We’ve got no food,’ he explained, licking his lips absently. ‘There was a little shop round the corner. I’ll go there.’  
  
Before she could say a word, he was striding out of the flat, the heavy front door banging shut behind him.


	10. Backlog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

‘Jack!’ Captain Jack Harkness looked up from his pile of paperwork as a most welcome distraction strode into his office. She was grimy from some dusty basement; smudges dotted her cheeks and forehead, and her long hair was half-dragged from its ponytail, but her triumphant smile shone through the muck. ‘I’ve got it!’  
  
‘Ain’t that the truth,’ Jack commented, smiling flirtatiously at her.  
  
‘Stop it,’ she said, smiling tiredly, ‘this is important.’  
  
‘Sorry.’ Jack made a show of schooling his features into an appropriately solemn expression.  
  
‘You know these artefacts we’ve been finding?’ she asked, starting to pace back and forth in front of his desk. ‘Weird...things, scattered all over town.’ Jack nodded, but she continued without even looking at him. ‘The last couple I picked up seemed to fit together, almost, and I realised that they _all_ fit together, that’s why they’re such odd shapes, it’s like a huge jigsaw! And I,’ she said, beaming and pulling something from her backpack, ‘have got the last piece!’  
  
In her hand, Rose held a palm-sized object, flat on one side but with fluid, uneven shapes on each of the other sides. ‘That’s why it took us so long to figure it out,’ she continued, placing the dusty gold object on Jack’s desk. ‘It’s a _three-dimensional_ jigsaw. Dunno what it does, but this one’s definitely giving off some kind of energy. That’s how we found it. So,’ she said, dropping tiredly into the chair in front of Jack’s desk, ‘who’s working on it?’  
  
‘Ah,’ Jack said, looking uncomfortable.  
  
‘What?’ Rose asked, looking at him from beneath raised brows. Suddenly she looked exasperated. ‘Oh, Jack, you haven’t given it to Arthur, have you? You know how nervous he is with this stuff; I’ll never get it back.’  
  
‘No,’ Jack said slowly, ‘I haven’t given it to Arthur.’ Rose sighed with relief. ‘Fact is, I haven’t given it to _anyone_.’  
  
‘What?’ Rose asked, shocked.  
  
Jack gestured to a large blue crate next to his desk. The word Pending was painted on the side and there, on top of the pile of items, was the last of her artefacts. ‘Everyone’s busy already.’ Jack laughed humourlessly. ‘More than busy. Everyone’s working overtime, everyone’s up to their eyeballs.’  
  
‘But, why?’ Rose asked, dropping back into her chair. Jack didn’t even blink at the puffs of dirt that rose from her clothes as she sat down again. He ran anxious fingers over his short hair.   
  
‘Procedure,’ he explained, muttering the word like a curse. ‘We’ve got almost no knowledge of these things, no idea what they are. I won’t risk having my staff blown up, but that means that everything from a potentially lethal plasma injector to a completely harmless sonic toothbrush has to undergo the same rigorous testing.’ He sighed. ‘If only we had some kind of exper-’ He was cut off by the sound of Karen Carpenter singing “Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft”.  
  
Rose rolled her eyes. ‘I thought I hid this!’ she said, digging in her pocket. Finally she dragged out her small black phone and Karen was silenced as she hit the answer button. ‘Hey, you,’ she said quietly, her whole manner softening. ‘How did you even get this song on the phone?’  
  
There was a confident chuckle on the other end of the line. ‘The internet’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it?’ He took a deep breath. ‘Also I borrowed your laptop while you were asleep and converted the sound file into a format compatible with your mobile phone.’  
  
‘Borrowed?’ Rose asked, one slender eyebrow raised archly, though she was still smiling.  
  
‘Yes,’ the Doctor said testily. ‘ _Borrowed_. You’ve got it back, haven’t you?’  
  
‘Um,’ Rose pretended to be checking her bag.  
  
‘Well you should do,’ the Doctor said, sounding confused. ‘I’m sure I...’ there was the sound of fluffy hair being ruffled and he muttered, ‘hang on, I’ll have a look.’  
  
‘Oh, no, wait,’ Rose called. ‘I’ve found it!’  
  
‘Oh, good,’ the Doctor said, ‘I was beginning to think I’d lost my marbles there. Actually,’ he muttered, ‘I might _have_ marbles in this coat. I,’ he paused at the giggles Rose couldn’t quite stifle. ‘Rose,’ he said in a serious voice.  
  
She cleared her throat, ‘Yes, Doctor?’  
  
‘You weren’t, by any chance, playing a little trick on me, were you?’  
  
‘ _Well_ ,’ Rose said, drawling the word in imitation of his speech patterns, ‘not a trick exactly, just, pulling your leg a little.’  
  
The Doctor tutted. ‘You wanna be careful with that. I might end up lopsided, just walking round in circles all the time, round and round and-’  
  
‘Doctor,’ Rose said, aware that Jack was watching her.  
  
‘Yup?’ he said, distracted from his babbling.  
  
‘Why did you call?’  
  
‘Oh, right, right, right. Reason for calling. I know there was one,’ he paused a second. ‘Um, phoned Rose because I was...going to cook!’ he shouted suddenly. ‘Rose,’ he said urgently, ‘do we have any flour?’  
  
Rose closed her eyes and tried to suppress a smile. ‘Um, no. You used the last of it making that Carrot and Corriander cake.’ Jack made a face at her and she rolled her eyes tolerantly. ‘I can bring some home tonight,’ she suggested.  
  
‘Oh, no, don’t bother,’ the Doctor said, already sounding distracted. ‘I’m sure I can find...something to do.’ She could picture him clearly; wandering around their living room picking things up and putting them down somewhere else where he’d never be able to find them again. There was a pause. ‘Will you be home soon?’ he asked quietly.  
  
Her heart went out to him, stuck in that little flat all alone. ‘As soon as I can,’ she assured him. She could hear him smile.  
  
‘Oh, good,’ he said. ‘Right, well, I’ll let you go. See you soon.’  
  
‘See you soon,’ Rose whispered, pausing a moment before shutting off her phone.  
  
She sat back in her seat, avoiding Jack’s knowing gaze. ‘So,’ she began briskly.  
  
‘So,’ Jack interrupted her, ‘how’s the Doctor?’  
  
Rose sighed. ‘Adorable. Wonderful. Maddening.’ Jack smiled. ‘He’s great,’ she said, ‘but he’s _bored_. He’s so smart and quick and now he’s stuck in a flat all day. Bad enough he’s stuck on Earth, but in one tiny flat with four tiny rooms? I think he’s going mental.’  
  
Jack walked round the desk to perch in front of her. ‘Why don’t you bring him into work with you?’ he asked. ‘We could always use another pair of hands.’  
  
‘I thought of that,’ Rose said, ‘but he hates guns. He hates the _idea_ of guns. And,’ she paused, ‘he’d think it was a pity job, something to do to keep him out my way.’  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow. ‘Sounds like boredom’s not the only problem,’ he said.  
  
Rose frowned. ‘Something’s worrying him but he won’t tell me. He’s holding back.’  
  
‘Are you?’ Jack asked.  
  
‘No!’ Rose cried. She paused. ‘I, maybe,’ she conceded. ‘Anyway,’ she said quickly, ‘we can analyse my crazy life another time. What were you saying?’  
  
Jack leant back on the desk, crossing his legs at the ankle as he tried to remember what they had been discussing before the phone call. ‘Oh!’ he said suddenly. ‘Backlog. I was just saying how great it would be if we could have some kind of filtering system. An expert who could sort the harmless from the dangerous, the,’ he paused, ‘wheat...from...the...chaff,’ he looked up to find Rose staring at him wide eyed.  
  
‘The Doctor!’ they said, in unison.  
  
‘Oh, Jack, that’d be great!’ Rose cried, jumping out of her seat.  
  
‘You’re telling me,’ Jack said. ‘No more backlog...’  
  
‘No more broken toasters...’  
  
‘I could get rid of this crate!’  
  
‘I could get rid of the Meccano!’  
  
Jack looked at her oddly. ‘Meccano?’  
  
Rose shrugged. ‘I told you, he’s bored.’  
  
‘But...what does he make?’ Jack asked. He was leaning forward now, genuinely intrigued.  
  
‘Um,’ Rose said, thinking back, ‘cranes, giant ladders, super colliders, roller coasters. He tried to make the sonic screwdriver once but he was missing...something,’ she said, shrugging her shoulders. ‘Lens or something.’  
  
‘Amazing,’ Jack breathed.  
  
‘Why don’t you ask him about it?’ Rose asked, smiling slyly. ‘You can come home with me tonight and chat about it.’  
  
‘Really?’ Jack asked, excited.  
  
‘Sure,’ Rose said. ‘Right after you ask him to join Torchwood.’  
  
‘Torchwood? But Rose, I thought you would-’  
  
‘I told you,’ she said determinedly, ‘he won’t listen to me. He will listen to you.’  
  
Jack rapped out a rapid rhythm on the edge of the desk as he thought. ‘Off you go, then,’ he said suddenly. ‘Better finish your paperwork if you wanna get home.’ Winking at her, he slid off the edge of the desk and waved her off. ‘And stick that artefact in the crate before you go!’  
  



	11. Jack

‘Doctor?’ Rose called, stepping into the tiny hallway of their flat. ‘I’m home,’ she called.   
  
There was still no reply. Beckoning her visitor into the hallway, Rose headed into the flat to look for her errant partner.  
  
She found him in the living room, and the sight made her smile. He was sleeping on their couch, his impossibly long body stretched out, his long legs dangling over the edge. One arm was down by his side, the other dangling over the side of the couch. In the background the TV muttered to itself, and on the coffee table in front of him there stood a working perpetual motion machine. Made of Meccano. She had been right when she’d told her mother that he would freak out with nothing to do all day. The Meccano had been purchased to allow him to vent his scientific energies without destroying the few household appliances they owned.  
  
Carefully stepping round the vast metal device, Rose crouched by the Doctor’s head and gently brushed some hair from his forehead.   
  
‘Doctor,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Doctor, you need to wake up now.’  
  
Suddenly, just as he had their first Christmas together, the Doctor flung himself forward. Sitting bolt upright, he held his long arm out in front of him, his hand curled as it had been around the sonic screwdriver. This time, however, he held only the very un-sonic screwdriver he’d been using for the Meccano. He didn’t notice this at first, distracted by the tall handsome man standing in the middle of their living room watching him with an amused quirk to his lips.  
  
‘Jack?’ he gasped, astounded. ‘What are you doing here, how did you get through?’   
  
Swinging his legs over the side of the sofa he stood quickly. ‘Is there something wrong?’ he asked, frowning. Then he noticed it. Standing this close to him, the Doctor could see that this was not the Captain Jack Harkness he knew. It was something in the eyes, something nebulous and shifting. He tried to quash the thought that rose in his mind; the Doctor, the _real_ Doctor, would have known what it was. ‘You’re not Jack,’ he said quietly, sitting down again. Noticing the screwdriver he still held, the Doctor grimaced and tossed it on top of the Meccano box.  
  
Carefully Rose sat next to him, reaching out to take his hand. He let her, but his hand sat limply in hers; he made no move to return the handhold.   
  
‘He’s this Jack,’ Rose said quietly, her heart aching for the way the Doctor sat, shoulders slumped, face blank. ‘This universe’s Jack I mean.’  
  
‘You know Rose,’ Jack said suddenly, ‘I think you’ve been keeping quiet about just how handsome your man is.’ He winked at her. ‘Afraid I’ll steal him away?’  
  
Rose laughed, grateful to Jack for the smile that flickered on the Doctor’s face. ‘Well you certainly _sound_ like Jack,’ he muttered.  
  
‘He is Jack,’ Rose assured him. ‘He’s not quite the same, but he’s very close.’  
  
The Doctor stood and held out a hand to Jack. Jack smiled and reached out, shaking the Doctor’s hand enthusiastically. ‘Sorry,’ the Doctor said, ‘so rude of me. Have a seat, would you like a cup of tea?’  
  
‘Tea’d be great,’ Jack grinned.  
  
‘I’ll get it,’ Rose said, standing up.  
  
‘No, it’s alright,’ the Doctor said, smiling at her. ‘It’ll only take me a minute. Tea for you?’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Rose said, sinking back down onto the couch, ‘tea’d be great.’  
  
‘Fantastic,’ the Doctor grinned, stepping around his model and striding off to the kitchen. Behind him, Rose groaned and flopped back onto the couch. Jack reached out and squeezed her hand reassuringly.  
  
  
In the kitchen, the Doctor flipped on the kettle and leant against the kitchen counter. He reached up to rub his eyes and encountered his glasses, still on from working with the Meccano. Pulling them off, he slowly folded them up and tucked them back into the pocket of his suit. Sighing, he rubbed his hands through his hair and scrubbed at his eyes. For a moment there, he’d felt right again; he’d seen someone he knew, had the possibility of doing something he was good at instead of sitting alone in this flat twiddling with kids’ toys and waiting for Rose to come home.  
  
The kettle boiled and he poured it over the three teabags, dunking them a couple of times with a metal spoon and then scooping them into the bin. It was the sleeping thing that had thrown him off, he decided. If he’d been awake when Jack came in he’d have known right away that it wasn’t _his_ Jack. He couldn’t understand the sleeping thing, especially in the middle of the day. He’d be powering along like before, working on something or watching TV, and suddenly he’d be exhausted. He definitely didn’t remember Donna falling asleep in the middle of the day, and Rose’s suggestion that newborns need more sleep had not sat well with his Time Lord dignity. Half Time Lord, he reminded himself, fetching milk out of the fridge for their tea. He had almost poured milk into the third cup before he remembered that this Jack might not take his tea the same way.  
  
‘Ehm, Jack,’ he called, appearing in the doorway of the living room. Rose yanked her hand from Jack’s and looked at him curiously. The Doctor frowned slightly, noticing tears on her face as she turned into the light.  
  
‘Yeah,’ Jack said, affecting ignorance of the emotional undercurrents running through the room.  
  
‘Ah,’ for a moment the Doctor could not remember why he’d come through. ‘Tea!’ he said suddenly, ‘How d’you take your tea?’  
  
‘Milk,’ Jack responded, smiling at him, ‘two sugars.’  
  
The Doctor beamed back at him, it was just the same as his counterpart. ‘Right, just be a second,’ he muttered and disappeared back into the kitchen.  
  
He had added milk and sugar to Jack’s tea, and was trying to figure out how to carry the three mugs through to the living room, when a pale slender hand reached out for one of the mugs. ‘I’ll take mine,’ Rose said, lifting the _Rose_ mug that he always put her tea in.  
  
He looked over at her, ashamed that he had hurt her so. ‘Rose,’ he said quietly.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, smiling bravely at him, ‘about before. I didn’t think...’ she trailed off, not sure of the words to make it better. Reaching out, he took her mug and set it back on the counter. Placing one hand on either side of her face, he tilted her chin up till he could look into her eyes.  
  
‘This is not your fault,’ he murmured.  
  
‘Well it’s not _your_ fault,’ she replied staunchly.  
  
He chuckled and wrapped her in a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. ‘Shall we make it Jack’s fault?’ he suggested quietly.  
  
Rose gave a watery chuckle. ‘Sounds good,’ she said quietly.  
  
The Doctor pressed a kiss to her forehead and stepped back. ‘Come on,’ he said, smiling, ‘if we’re going to lay the blame on him, we can at least take him some tea.’  
  
  
In the living room, the Doctor handed over Jack’s tea and motioned for Rose to take the other couch seat as he sat himself, cross-legged, on the floor, his back against the living room wall. ‘Thanks,’ Jack said, saluting him with his tea. ‘I needed that.’  
  
‘Thing is, Doctor,’ Rose said, smiling at him over her mug, ‘Jack’s not just here for a visit.’  
  
‘Oh yeah?’ the Doctor asked, his gaze flicking back to Jack.  
  
‘I run the London Torchwood branch in this universe,’ Jack said, placing his mug on the only free space left on the coffee table. ‘Quite frankly,’ he continued, ‘we could really use your help. It’s not like Canary Wharf,’ he added quickly, seeing the Doctor’s expression. ‘Rose told me about that place when she first started working here.’ He shook his head disapprovingly.  
  
‘What can I do, though?’ the Doctor asked, bewildered. ‘I’ve got no sonic screwdriver, no TARDIS, what’ve I got to offer to an outfit like Torchwood?’  
  
‘Honestly?’ Jack asked; the Doctor nodded. ‘Your mind,’ he explained. ‘We find all kinds of weird junk all the time,’ he continued. ‘Before we can do anything with it we’ve gotta determine if it’s alien or human, if it’s dangerous or harmless. That’s before we can get to the stage of figuring out what it does! I’ve got teams of people stuck in a basement trying to filter through this stuff. And fair play to them,’ he added, ‘they’re doing their best. But you,’ he said, leaning forward, ‘with all that knowledge and experience, you could identify things in minutes that take our people months. What d’ya say?’ he asked.  
  
The Doctor thought about it. He’d be out of the flat, getting to talk to people, he could go to work with Rose, he could be _useful_.  
  
‘Alright,’ he said grinning. ‘I guess I could manage that.’  
  
‘Brilliant,’ Jack said, grinning at the Doctor, and reaching for his mug again. Beside Jack, the Doctor saw Rose smile gratefully at him, and he grinned back at her.  
  



	12. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written in collaboration with the_willows, who doesn't seem to have an AO3 account. This chapter was written by her.

Jack held the tiny object up between his thumb and forefinger, magnifying glass in the other, giving the Doctor an unrivalled view of his left eye, the sparkling pool of blue huge and detailed through the convex lens in his hand.

The Doctor squinted slightly, then remembered his glasses, pulling them from his jacket pocket and leaning forward towards the object in Jack’s grasp as he put them on.

“I’d say it was a chip of some kind,” concluded Jack, lowering the magnifying glass and leaning back in his seat. The Doctor sniffed, rubbing his forehead.

“This is the part where you agree or disagree,” Jack sat forward again, and snapped his fingers in front of the Doctor, who was staring off into space.

“Doctor? Are you with us?” He tried again. Finally he got a response.

“Hmm?” The Doctor blinked at Jack, his eyes still vacant. “Sorry, miles away. You were saying?” he leaned closer to the desk and reached out his hand. Jack dropped the object into it, watching with quiet fascination as the Doctor prodded it delicately and turned it over between his fingers.

“Ah, now this, this is interesting,” he leaned over to grab the magnifying glass, now giving Jack a reciprocal close up of his own dark, chocolate eye.

“What is it?” Jack felt that tiny flutter of excitement deep in his belly, which always accompanied the revelation of the origins of a new artefact.

The Doctor sat back triumphantly.

“It’s a chip.”

Jack’s blue eyes rolled towards the high ceiling.

“Doctor, I think you should go home.”

The Doctor looked at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Why would I want to do that?” He wiped his forehead, and Jack noted the beads of sweat.

“Have you been to the path lab recently?” Jack eyed him suspiciously; he knew the Doctor had a habit of poking at things and asking what they were after the fact. They’d discovered some rather nasty little viruses recently that had hitched a ride in on an artefact, and it wouldn’t have surprised him in the least if the man sitting vacant and sweaty in front of him had wandered past and licked it.

“Doctor, I’m no…ah, doctor, but even I can tell that you’re not well. Go home, go to bed, I’ll call Rose back to play nurse and we’ll see you bright and early in a few days time.”

Jack stood and rounded the desk, heading for the door. The Doctor didn’t react, didn’t argue.

Definitely ill.

He stood, and obediently headed for door that Jack held open for him.

“An infinity chip. Holds unlimited information. Handy little things.” He dropped it back into Jack’s open hand.

“Don’t call Rose back, I’ll be fine.” He gave Jack a pleading look, and his friend reached up to squeeze his shoulder.

“It’s OK to admit you’re feeling a little under par. It’s human."

The Doctor clapped a friendly hand on Jack’s arm as a parting shot and wandered away, absently scratching at his chest.


	13. Remembering Donna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another the_willows chapter

It wasn’t the daylight filtering through the curtains that woke Rose, but a strange sensation of movement. She tried to ignore it, rolling over and finding the bed empty beside her, but that was nothing unusual: the Doctor was usually awake before her and was most often to be found occupied with something that had wires sticking out of it, or with his nose in a book. Occasionally he crept back to bed with a cup of tea, and brought one for Rose, but once the tea was gone, so was he.  
  
After failing to get fully back to sleep, Rose finally opened her eyes; the odd shaking sensation the bed seemed to be making was now starting to annoy.  
  
Looking over, she saw that the Doctor’s side of the bed was not completely empty. He was sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over, his back towards her, and moving his arms vigorously. Rose stared, not sure whether she should interrupt, especially when he suddenly let out a moan and collapsed back onto the bed.  
  
But Rose’s discomfort turned to sympathy as he turned his face towards her and she saw the telltale fluid filled blisters blighting his freckles. She let out a yell.  
  
‘Ah! Oh my God! You’ve got chicken pox!’ She scrambled free of the covers and pulled up his t shirt, and saw now that he had been vigorously scratching his chest and belly, although luckily he hadn’t burst any blisters, they seemed to have appeared since the scratching.  
  
‘Rose, I feel horrible, it’s so itchy!’ He brought a hand up to his face to scratch, but Rose slapped it away.  
  
‘Don’t you dare! I’m not having those freckles marred with scars, thank you!’  
  
He looked at her miserably, contorting his face instead to try and relieve the irritation. Rose couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at the sight of his gurning. Taking pity on him, she leant over and gently blew on his skin, the cool air offering some relief.  
  
‘Thanks,’ he muttered, visibly trying to stop his hands from seeking out other itchy body parts.  
  
‘I’m so sorry, you’ve got this from Tony, we were over there before the spots came out, and then when mum phoned and told me, it didn’t occur to me that you might catch it.’  
  
The Doctor rubbed his head on the bed to relieve his scalp.  
  
‘Surely Donna must’ve had this, don’t all kids get chicken pox?’ he looked annoyed.  
  
‘Well, yeah, pretty much. Although one of my teachers had it when she was 45, she was really ill, got pneumonia and ended up in hospital-’ Rose realised from the look he was giving her that such an anecdote wasn’t really very helpful. She smiled encouragingly.  
  
‘But it doesn’t mean you’ll be that bad! Look, I’ll run you a bath, with Bicarbonate of Soda. It relieves the itching. And we’ve got Calamine Lotion, mum made sure we had a well stocked medicine cabinet when we left her place.’  
  
The Doctor squirmed against the mattress, huffing to himself.  
  
Rose got off the bed and headed to the kitchen.   
  
‘Don’t scratch while I’m gone, or I’ll bandage your hands!’ she called back over her shoulder. He sighed and pulled the pillow over his head, squashing it down and yelling his frustration into it.  
  
  
He had to admit to feeling somewhat relieved after the strange bath, and had reluctantly allowed Rose into the bathroom to make sure his back got washed with the alkaline solution as well. She had noticed the modestly placed facecloth, but hadn’t remarked on it.   
  
Once in clean cotton pyjamas to “let his skin breathe” as Rose was advised by Jackie, the Doctor settled back in bed. He hadn’t minded the application of Calamine Lotion, until it began to dry and he then set about complaining.  
  
‘What’s the use of having a bath, if you’re going to smother me in that dreadful pink stuff?’ He’d sulked for a good half hour at least.  
  
And Rose had been forced to make good on her threat to bandage his hands, as the temptation to scratch had proved irresistible. She remembered the adage about doctors not making good patients, and considered that it went double for Human-Time lord metacrises.  
  
But the appearance of the blisters in his mouth and down his throat had been the final straw, as it ruled out hot cups of tea, and he took it as a personal insult.  
  
‘Why didn’t Donna have Chicken Pox? She must have! Why aren’t I immune? What’s the point in a part human metacrisis, if it doesn’t instil you with the useful bits?’  
  
Rose sighed. It was going to be a long couple of weeks.  
  
‘She probably did have it. But is immunity actually written into the DNA?’  
  
He ignored her, continuing his rant.  
  
‘But she always seemed so…so robust, healthy, strong as an ox. Well that showed me…’  
  
He trailed off, and Rose looked up to find him gazing at her sadly, and she knew that suddenly this wasn’t about Donna’s lack of immunity to chicken pox. She reached over and gently stroked his hair, careful to avoid the blisters.  
  
‘Do you…think about her much?’ It wasn’t a loaded question, just curiosity; he’d barely mentioned Donna, despite her being often apparent in his gestures and phraseology when he was particularly animated or engrossed in something.  
  
He turned his head away from her, swallowing slowly. Rose crept closer and placed her hand gently under his chin, turning his face towards her again, to which he offered no resistance.  
  
‘It’s OK, you _can_ talk about her, and think about her. I don’t mind. Actually, it’s been a bit weird that you haven’t actually mentioned her much.’  
  
She smiled at him encouragingly, and he rolled onto his side to face her completely. She took one of his bandaged hands in hers.  
  
‘I do miss her,’ he said, eyes wide and sad. Rose nodded silently, just urging him on with a squeeze of her hand.  
  
‘I looked her up Rose. I got Tosh to try and find her. But there’s no Donna Noble. Her Grandfather, he married someone different, he…’ he paused, closing his eyes momentarily, ‘Wilf died. In the war...’ his voice broke as he finished speaking, and Rose knew it was as much for the loss of the old man as for his brilliant Granddaughter.  
  
‘Yeah, but does _everyone_ always have to be the exact same person, come from the same family in this universe?’ She tried to inject some hope into her voice. The Doctor smiled at her weakly, and let out a huge sigh.  
  
‘Well, if you consider that I am apparently non-existent here, and you were a…’ he stopped, seeing the flicker in Rose’s eye that dared him to say it.  
  
‘…you were absent altogether, then I suppose we could allow ourselves to think that Donna is here somewhere. But Rose, if she’s not Donna Noble, then what are the chances of finding her, where do we even start?’  
  
Rose carefully cuddled up to him, and unbandaged his hands so that she could hold them properly. They lay side by side in silence for a while, both lost in thought.  
  
‘You’d have been good with her,’ Rose turned and planted a soft kiss to his forehead, momentarily wondering if some of the blisters hadn’t disappeared.  
  
‘I’m itchy again,’ he said, squirming. Rose reached over to the bedside table for the Calamine Lotion.   
  
‘Roll over,’ she asked, kneeling up, and he obliged, unbuttoning his pyjama top and removing it.  
  
‘Thanks,’ he said softly, as she began to dab.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Rose stopped momentarily to drop a kiss to his shoulder, which looked almost blister free. She made a mental note, but didn’t say anything.  
  
‘What for?’ The Doctor lifted his torso slightly and looked back over his shoulder at her.  
  
‘For being a bit crap at helping you. Donna would’ve been great at getting you through this, this being mortal, vulnerable. Sometimes I can’t see past your face… I forget, you ask me things, simple things about how to live like this, and I forget. I laugh at you, or fob you off…’ she gently stroked his back, there were definitely less blisters.  
  
‘It’s not up to you to teach me Rose, it’s up to me to learn,’ he turned onto his back again, looking at her intently. Rose felt herself blush.  
  
‘Everyone needs some guidance, you can’t learn in isolation,’ she felt guilty suddenly, as if she were failing him.  
  
‘Do you know something, Rose?’ he said, offering her an embrace into which she gladly wriggled.  
  
‘While I was alone with Donna in the TARDIS, before we knew the metacrisis had affected her too, for a brief, wonderful moment, I allowed myself to imagine how things might turn out, if we got out alive. And you know what?’  
  
Rose shook her head.  
  
‘You went off with him, and I went off with Donna.’  
  
Rose sat up and turned to him, her eyes questioning.  
  
‘But I’m glad that’s not the way it turned out though,’ he said, smiling warmly, ‘as hard as this thing called humanity can be, I’m glad I’m sharing it with you.’  
  
Rose returned the smile, and lay back down in his arms.  
  
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, lifting his hand and pressing a kiss to the palm.  
  
‘Even if you are a rubbish teacher,’ he added with a sly grin.  
  
‘Oi!’ cried Rose, grabbing the pillow behind her and whacking him with it.  
  
‘Mercy! I’m an invalid!’ he shrieked, feigning weakness. Rose climbed onto his stomach, straddling him, pinning his arms above his head.  
  
‘Just for that, I’m not bringing you chips later,’ she threatened, and he made a pouty face, before lapsing into a grin.  
  
‘And I know how much you love your Saturday night chips,’ she returned the grin, but he was suddenly distracted, staring into space.  
  
Rose released his hands and climbed off him. She knew that look, a penny of universal implication had just dropped.  
  
‘Chips. _Chips_!’ he sat up suddenly, clutching his head.  
  
‘Rose, that’s it! Chips!’ He was grinning madly.  
  
Rose looked at him blankly.  
  
‘ _That’s_ how to save her! Jack was wittering about an artefact today, some kind of chip, but I wasn’t really listening, too busy trying to write an algorithm for releasing sub-atomic energy from table salt.’  
  
Rose looked impressed.  
  
‘What, some new form of eco energy?’  
  
‘Eh, what? Oh no, no, I was bored. But something sank in. It’s a chip, a special kind of chip.’  
  
He got up from the bed and grabbed Rose, looking her in the eye.  
  
‘Rose, I can save her, I can save Donna. His Donna.’  
  
Rose’s eyes roamed over him, widening suddenly.  
  
‘Doctor, your chicken pox, it’s gone, it’s disappeared!’  
  
He stood back, straightening his shoulders and running a hand through his hair.  
  
‘Oh yes,’ he sniffed casually, ‘course it has, told you Donna was made of stern stuff. Now, get Jack on the phone while I shower off this pink stuff. Tell him I’m on my way in.’


	14. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

Rose was huddled over a form at Torchwood, trying to think of a professional sounding synonym for “squishy”, when her concentration was broken by the sound of the Doctor’s voice – sounding loud and unnatural – resounding along the corridor.  
  
‘There she is!’ he cried, appearing in her doorway. ‘Rose!’ Rose stood up and stepped out from behind her desk as the Doctor strode over and wrapped an arm around her calling over his shoulder, ‘My girlfriend! To whom I am _completely_ faithful. Completely.’  
  
‘Doctor, what-’ Rose started to say, before she was cut off by the Doctor’s arm tightening around her waist and his soft, full lips pressing against her own.  
  
Suddenly her questions, and his odd behaviour, didn’t seem quite as important as winding her fingers in his growing hair and feeling his long arms squeeze her close. After a moment he gently drew away.  
  
Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against hers. ‘Rose,’ he whispered.  
  
‘Yeah?’ she asked quietly, still recovering from the unexpected kiss.  
  
‘Are they still there?’  
  
Peering surreptitiously over his shoulder, Rose could see a group of determined looking woman watching the Doctor hungrily.  
  
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Doctor,’ she said louder, ‘I’m so glad you’re _mine_ , I wouldn’t let _anyone_ take you away from me.’ Then she grabbed him by the lapels and yanked him forward.  
  
By the time they came up for air the second time, the group of girls had dispersed and both of them were having trouble remembering what they had been talking about before.  
  
‘Um,’ Rose muttered, licking her lips distractedly.  
  
‘Right,’ the Doctor responded, running a hand through his thoroughly ruffled hair.  
  
‘Girls,’ Rose managed.  
  
The Doctor shuddered. ‘They keep _appearing_ at my desk,’ he said, looking fearful. ‘I don’t know what they think is wrong with me, but it’s not physically possible for the human body to absorb that much liquid in one day. I know! I’ve tried!’  
  
‘Wait, what?’ Rose asked, confused.  
  
‘Tea, Rose. They keep bringing me tea. Tell me the truth,’ he said seriously. ‘Do I look dehydrated to you?’  
  
Rose managed to turn her laugh into a cough. ‘No, Doctor,’ she said reassuringly. ‘You look very healthy.’  
  
‘Then, why?’  
  
‘They fancy you,’ she explained. Reaching up, she stroked his soft hair. ‘I can’t say I blame them.’  
  
The Doctor frowned and slumped against her desk. ‘I never had this problem in any of my other bodies,’ he commented dispiritedly.  
  
‘I’m sure,’ Rose said, having heard descriptions of his previous incarnations.  
  
‘What does that mean?’ he asked sharply.  
  
Rose smiled and patted his arm. ‘Just that this body is more... _widely_ appreciated than your other incarnations. Which I would still have loved,’ she added quickly.  
  
He beamed at her for a moment, entwining their fingers as they stood together. Then he frowned. ‘I still don’t know what to do about them,’ he commented.  
  
‘Is it really so bad if they bring you lots of tea?’ she asked, nudging him with her shoulder. ‘Just say thanks and dump it in the pot plant.’  
  
‘I don’t have a pot plant.’  
  
Rose smiled. ‘Then I’ll buy you one. A big one with “Love forever, Rose” in big letters on the card.’  
  
He laughed. ‘It’s more the interruptions. I’m not making as much progress on the Donna project as I should be.’  
  
Rose pondered this, stroking his long fingers as she thought. ‘Why don’t you take it home?’ she asked, after a moment. ‘You could work on it during the day while I’m at work and then, if something occurs to you in the middle of the night, you wouldn’t have to wait until the next day.’  
  
The Doctor grinned widely at her. ‘You are a genius, Rose Tyler,’ he said, kissing her soundly.  
  
‘I know,’ she said, smiling up at him. ‘Only, ask Jack first will you. Otherwise he’ll have a fit and that just brings on grey hairs.’  
  
The Doctor nodded absently, already leaving. ‘Good point,’ he muttered, ‘I’ll talk to him now.’  
  
‘Oh, Doctor!’ Noticing the girls from before starting to drift towards the door again, Rose strode across the office to press the Doctor up against the door frame and kiss him possessively. ‘See you at home, lover!’ she called, as he staggered back to his desk, his face bright red, the posse of fangirls staring open-mouthed after him.  
  



	15. Saving Donna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by the_willows

The Doctor woke early, as was usual for him. His human side demanded much more sleep than his Time Lord mind was used to, but when their demands conflicted, his Time Lord side usually won.  
  
Lately he was completely driven by the idea that he could save Donna; he knew how devastating it would have been for his other self to rob her of her memories, and she’d been good for him. In the absence of Rose the presence of Donna would have been a great comfort, and the DoctorDonna even more so.  
  
He turned over in bed away from Rose. Mornings seemed to make him prone to an embarrassing affliction, worsened by his close proximity to Rose in their bed. This morning was no exception, and as he always did, he crept from the bed and away from Rose to distract himself with less stimulating things, such as tea-making and fetching in the milk, which seemed to effect the desired relief.  
  
He wandered around the tiny flat as he drank his tea, deep in thought; he’d probably not remember to take Rose a cup this morning, he was pre-occupied with schematics and biometrics, neural inhibitors and synaptic exchange relays.  
  
After wandering for a good twenty minutes and finishing his tea, the Doctor finally settled in the lounge, which had become an impromptu lab-cum-workshop, the seating confined to one small corner with the TV on the coffee table. The rest of the room had been given over to pasting tables borrowed from a friend of Pete’s, replete with all manner of electronics, alien artefacts and precision tools, a security nightmare that was giving Jack cold sweats. The Doctor had insisted on taking stuff home to work on, only returning to Torchwood to test things or gather more materials.  
  
He sat at the table, picking up the half finished device, running the fine connective filaments through his fingers.  
  
“Almost finished, Donna…” he whispered to himself. He picked up the micro-welding tool, and began to work.  
  
The actual construction of the device was almost child’s play, now that he’d figured out the design and acquired the necessary parts. He glanced up at the wall, which was covered in an arcane graffiti consisting of Gallifreyan symbols intermingled with English words and numbers. Jackie had been apoplectic when she’d dropped by one day to see Rose and found the Doctor using the lounge wall as a whiteboard. Only the explanation of what he was trying to build, and the promise to repaint when he was done had saved him from a rather large chunk of her mind on the matter.  
  
The construction may have been easy, but the bigger problem was going to be getting the device from this universe back to Donna’s. If such a thing had been straightforward, then he felt sure he wouldn’t be still sharing a tiny flat with Rose, she’d have been long gone; back to her world, back to _him_. And he’d have been the one left wandering alone without her or Donna…  
  
Those thoughts seemed to stalk him, more so now he was determined to find a way to send the device back to Donna’s world. If he did find a route, would it be one that could be travelled as well?  
  
He worked quickly, cleanly, eyes roaming over the components, fingers deftly meshing hardware with sophisticated medical technology. His amazing mind hadn’t been dulled by the metacrisis, and after a while he was working on the device almost automatically, allowing his subconscious to wander.  
  
He vaguely registered Rose getting up, and showering, there were briefly exchanged morning pleasantries, topped up tea mugs and plates of toast. After chaste kisses meant not to disturb, he found himself alone again in the flat.  
  
After an hour or so, he got up and stretched his long frame, time for a break. He showered and dressed in all of ten minutes.  
  
When he came back to the lounge, he found the silence weighed heavily today, and wandered over to the stereo that Pete had insisted on giving them as a moving in present, the sleek expensive Denon system completely incongruous and unnecessary in such a small, untidy space. The Doctor loved all kinds of music, and his eclectic tastes had seen him spend a few days doing nothing but make his own CD compilations before Meccano, and eventually Torchwood, had more gainfully occupied his mind.  
  
He slipped a seldom-played CD into the tray and watched it slide back in. Soon the oppressive silence was broken by an eclectic mix of the Singing Nun, some children’s TV themes, and Frank Zappa. He worked on happily.  
  
An hour or so later he had finished all that he could do without testing, and reluctantly stopped, knowing he’d have to go to Torchwood. The place wasn’t so bad, but he did feel uncomfortable there, the female staff all paid him an inordinate amount of attention, which Rose seemed to find endlessly amusing, but which stirred things within him that he still didn’t fully understand.   
  
He wandered back to the kitchen and made himself another mug of tea, then decided to bake some chocolate buns, telling himself he’d call Torchwood for a car while the cakes were cooling.  
  
Once the buns were safely stowed in the oven, he wandered around again, occasionally humming or singing along to the CD.  
  
“ _Dominique -nique -nique s'en allait tout simplement,  
Routier, pauvre et chantant…_”  
  
He flopped down onto the sofa, picking up a copy of Vogue that Jackie had left for Rose, in the vain hope that she could instil some fashion sense into the Doctor. He glanced through the magazine, but stopped when he found that the images of scantily clad, lithe young women were having that odd effect on him again.  
  
He closed the pages, wondering why it was that humans were so pre-occupied with sex. Of all his regenerations, this one had been especially appealing to human females, compelling their close attention, and also the one that had enjoyed it the most. But now he was part human himself, he found it oddly uncomfortable.  
  
His visits to Torchwood seemed always to demand a high number of female staff members to attend to him, and he had accidentally overheard some whispered conversations about him that had made him blush.  
  
It wasn’t that he was prudish, he _knew_ humans seemed to consider mating a recreational activity, but whereas before he had allowed himself the indulgence of at least kissing them, which was, after all, not unpleasant, this new _physical_ awareness of the significance was rather disconcerting. He’d often wondered why Rose didn’t seem to press that side of their relationship, but assumed that it must be equally as awkward for her as it was for him. They’d probably get around to it eventually.  
  
He got up, humming along to a theme song about a racing car, and looked for the telephone. He had to put his embarrassment aside for the sake of this project. He hit the speed dial number for Torchwood.  
  
The switchboard answered right away.  
  
“Good morning, H. C Clements, Angie speaking, how may I help you?”  
  
The young woman sounded bright and efficient as always. The Doctor sighed.  
  
“Yes, good morning Angie, it’s…” he was interrupted enthusiastically.  
  
“Oh it certainly is now! Good morning to you, Doctor…” Angie positively purred down the phone at him.  
  
“Er, yes, yes, thank you, um, Angie. I need a car please, I have some things to bring in for testing.”  
  
“No worries, Doctor, it’s on its way.”  
  
“Don’t you want my security clearance?”  
  
Angie giggled.  
  
“Don’t worry, Doctor, we’ll be sure to look over your _particulars_ when you get here.”  
  
He felt his cheeks redden.  
  
“R-right. Er…yes. And perhaps you could let Miss Tyler know I’m on my way?”  
  
The line suddenly became frosty.  
  
“Oh, is _she_ in today? I hadn’t noticed. Of course, goodbye, Doctor.”  
  
“Goodbye, Angie.” He smiled to himself. Mentioning Rose was a useful deterrent.  
  
He wandered over to the table and began carefully packing up the tools and equipment, taking special care of the device he’d been working on. He held it in his hands; it resembled a piece of diaphanous jewellery, long threads of superfine semi-organic wiring branching out from a central node, with smaller sub-nodes glinting like dewdrops. He moved to the window, holding it up to the shaft of sunlight, watching it twinkle. Donna loved sunny days. And she also loved twinkly things.  
  
“I’ll get this to you, Donna, I’ll find a way somehow,” he addressed the sky, wondering – hoping - that she was looking at one just as bright, even if she couldn’t be thinking about him.  
  
“It’s called an Infinity Array,” he addressed the Donna he remembered, seeing her clearly in his mind as he spoke. “it’s going to save you from that ordinary life. And it’s going to save _him_ from…”  
  
He couldn’t finish the sentence, feeling emotions well up suddenly, imagining the sense of loss. Donna, with her beautiful hair, her fierce spirit, her loyal heart…and her over-active mouth! He chuckled to himself, fondly remembering their bickering.  
  
 _I’ve kissed that mouth_ …  
  
His eyes widened. Where had _that_ come from?   
  
That strange powerful feeling began stirring deep within him again, as he carefully packed the Array into protective casing. He heard a beep outside; the car had arrived. He picked up the flight cases full of equipment, carefully balancing the one housing the Array on the top of the pile. His mind wandered back to that fateful night, when Donna had found him, unloading her life onto the pavement from her mother’s car, leaving him to struggle with it after their misunderstanding.  
  
He wobbled towards the door of the flat, setting the pile down again to find his keys.  
  
 _I’m not mating with you sunshine!_  
  
He smiled to himself, opening the door, and hefting the cases through it. He could still picture the look on her face.   
  
_You’re just a long streak of nothing. Alien nothing._  
  
Yet still she’d kissed him!  
  
“Methinks the lady did protest too much…”  
  
At least Rose had always been impressed.  
  
Seconds later he flew back through the door, to rescue the buns from the oven.


	16. Striking A Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by the_willows

Jack stared at the cloud of filaments and diodes that nestled in the case. His eyes then rolled up to look at the Doctor, who seemed to be caught somewhere between a grin and disappointment.  
  
“And it does what, exactly?” Jack liked alien technology as much as the next Torchwood employee, but even he had switched off when the Doctor had started a full blown lecture on the intricacies of the device as he left for his flat, with several flightcases of priceless alien artefacts and a swivel chair.  
  
The chair had remained intact. And back at the flat. But the flightcases were now little more than boxes of spare parts and all there was to show for the destruction of such rare technology was what looked like a pile of tangled fishing line.  
  
The Doctor rolled his own eyes at Jack’s comment, realising that his detailed explanation of its construction and function had largely been ignored.  
  
“It’s an Infinity Array. It’s embedded into her central nervous system, and will divert the memories transferred by the metacrisis into the Infinity Chip, and away from her brainstem; thus halting total neural burnout and therefore avoiding…um… well, you know…”  
  
The Doctor faltered at the end on his explanation, not really wanting to contemplate the consequences. Jack’s expression softened in sympathy.  
  
“Sounds fantastic, well done, Doctor. So, now all you have to do is find a way of getting it to her.” He gestured to the box, prompting his friend to remove it from his desk.  
  
The Doctor’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’.  
  
“Oh. I was actually wondering if Torchwood could give me a hand with that as well.”  
  
He peered out from under his hair in what he hoped was his most persuasive, puppy-eyed expression; it always seemed to work on Rose. His fingers idly caressed the case containing the Array.  
  
Jack let out a sigh. As much as he liked the Doctor and wanted to help him, he wasn’t sure he could justify the manpower or resources to help his friend punch yet more holes between universes.  
  
“Doctor, I really don’t think…” he started to give him the gentle let down but the Doctor had anticipated the rebuff and had a bargaining tool up his sleeve.  
  
“Cold fusion,” he cut across Jack, his face determined.  
  
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “What?”  
  
The Doctor let out a sigh of resignation.  
  
“You help me get this back to Rose’s universe, and I’ll give you cold fusion. Your world is heating up even faster than hers was. Climate change Jack, it’s a hot topic on any Earth, if you’ll forgive the pun. Wasn’t intentional, but there we go.” He grinned at his own silliness momentarily. Jack just stared at him.  
  
“That’s my offer. You get this,” he closed the lid of the Array’s case and put it back down on Jack’s desk, “back to the other Doctor and Donna Noble, and I’ll give Torchwood cold fusion, Jack. It’s _actually_ quite a simple process, really.”  
  
The Doctor pulled out the chair and sat down, facing Jack, leaning forward, his voice low and even, his eyes glittering with something Jack couldn’t quite fathom.  
  
“Think about it. I’m sure the Prime Minister would allow a little diversion of funding for a side project. In exchange for…oh, I don’t know, changing the world?”  
  
The Doctor’s face was a mask of determination.  
  
Jack swallowed. This proposition would not only guarantee Torchwood funding for the foreseeable future, but could also shift the balance of global power. He picked up his pen, rolling it between his fingers. He wasn’t sure he was ready for this. And from what he’d heard about the Doctor from Rose, neither was he.  
  
“I’m not sure the world is ready to be changed just yet, Doctor. But that kind of bargaining isn’t made lightly; this really means that much to you?” He searched his friend’s eyes, finding the answer in them more than the nodding of his head.  
  
Jack leant back in his chair with a sigh.  
  
“OK, Doctor. I’ll tell you what. You find that alien big cat that’s still stalking Dartmoor, and I’ll get your Array back to Donna.”  
  
The Doctor looked puzzled.  
  
“But that’s just rumours, idle hearsay and grainy photographs.”   
  
Jack opened a file on his desk, turning the document and placing it in front of the Doctor. A clear photograph of a large, six-legged, black, cat-like creature topped the pile of papers.  
  
“Well look at that! The Fortean Times was right all along!” He picked up the picture, a grin spreading across his face.  
  
“So that’s a deal then?” asked Jack, already knowing the answer from the schoolboy grin on his friend’s face.”  
  
The Doctor handed Jack the Array.  
  
“Oh yes!”


	17. Guilty

Rose arrived home to the smell of baking. Again.

She closed the door to the small flat behind her, and breathed deeply, the air thick with the warm crisp smell of…

“Shortbread! Have you made shortbread?” She called out, alerting The Doctor to her return.

He popped out of the kitchen looking pleased with himself.

“It needs to cool a bit, but yeah, I made shortbread!” He grinned, bobbing back in to the kitchen momentarily, coming back out with two mugs of tea. Rose hung up her coat and bag and took her mug, noticing how pleased he still looked.

“Are you up to something?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, knowing full well that he must be; he was fidgeting.

“Me?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Nah, not me. Shall we go and sit down?” He gestured towards the lounge.

“What, and stare at your scribbles all night from a cramped corner?” she cocked her head to one side, waiting for her scored point to register. He looked crestfallen momentarily.

“Oh come on! You don’t want to sample my wares in the hallway,” He was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet like an excited child. Rose sighed and took the hand he was now offering.

He led them the few feet to the lounge, then stepped back allowing Rose to enter first.

She gasped.

“Oh! Where’s it all gone? Have you finished?” She turned to him, incredulous. They had their lounge back!

The tables of electronics and cases of artefacts were gone. The furniture and TV were now back in their usual positions, and Jackie would be pleased to see that the walls were fully restored to their pristine state.

“Well, I still have to figure out how to breach the walls between dimensions again,” he scratched his head, “but yeah, as far as working here’s concerned, I’m definitely finished.” He leant against the doorway, tea in one hand, the other now placed in his trouser pocket. He looked pleased.

Rose took both their mugs, setting them down on the coffee table. She threw her arms around The Doctor, squeezing him tightly.

“Thank you! Thank you, it’s perfect.” She pulled back and kissed him on the cheek. He grinned at her.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, and she grinned back.

“So is that shortbread ready?” The delicious smell was stronger in the lounge, and Rose hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“I’m sure we can give it a go,” The Doctor slipped from her embrace and slid away to the kitchen whilst Rose settled herself, admiring the quality of the décor, knowing full well that Pete would have sent in his decorators the minute she’d left for work. Thinking back, she did have a recollection of a white van waiting outside.

The Doctor returned to the lounge, a plate piled high with shortbread.

Rose smirked as he set it down on the coffee table and joined her on the sofa.

“What?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t as transparent as Rose always made him out to be.

“What’s the secret ingredient this time?” she leant forward and took a piece of the shortbread, holding it up and examining it carefully. She sniffed it.

“I resent that sweeping condemnation!” The Doctor wore his wounded face, which only made Rose laugh.

“Oh come on! There hasn’t been a single thing you’ve made from that cookbook of Mum’s that you haven’t tried to improve on.”

He had to concede her point. He sighed.

‘Wellllll, I was bored. That and curious. Curious and bored, it’s a dangerous combination. And cooking, it’s another form of science, really. I’m good at science, it can always be better, or quicker, or bigger, or…or… tastier. Red rag to a bull that cook book…’ He waggled his eyebrows at her and took a piece of shortbread for himself. Rose continued to stare at it, then looked at him. He rolled his eyes and bit into it enthusiastically, winking.

Rose puffed out through her lips and took a bite. It was still warm, and crumbled into her mouth, soft, sweet and buttery.

“Mmmmm!” She chewed it slowly savouring it. “Oh my God! That’s just…just…shortbread!” She looked at him her eyes wide.

“Told you,” he looked pleased with himself.

“No Coriander, or Miso, or caviar…?” Rose took another bite. It was delicious.

“Can’t mess with perfection, there was nothing to improve on.” He grinned, and Rose entwined the fingers of her free hand in his and they finished the biscuits in silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly as they both sat licking their fingers.

“What for?” said Rose absent-mindedly, eyeing up another shortbread piece.

“For these past few weeks. I’ve been so focussed on Donna, that must have seemed really insensitive.” He looked at her, his eyes sad.

Rose squeezed his hand gently.

“Don’t be daft, this is important, very important. Why would I think you were being insensitive?” She looked at him intently, still seeing the sadness in his eyes.

“I don’t want you to think you don’t mean as much to me. I’m only here because of Donna, she created me, but now that I am here, I want you to know it’s you that I love. If I know how to save her, it would be wrong not to try.”

Rose smiled, and shuffled closer to him.

“I know you love me, I never thought any different; and you’re right, you had to do it.” she thought for a moment.

“Is that why I’ve come home to cakes and biscuits nearly every night since you started on that chip thing?” She leant forward to look at him; he had turned his head away slightly and was staring at his feet. He said nothing, but squeezed her hand.

“Donna would have had a name for you, right about now,” she nudged him with her elbow, and he let his head drop back onto the sofa back, eyes closed tightly, clearly embarrassed. He let out a strangled groan.

“You thought I was jealous? Or feeling neglected?” Rose chuckled to herself. The Doctor rolled his head over towards her.

“You’re not then?” he looked relieved.

Rose lifted her legs and draped them over his knees.

“Of course not. Anyway, it’s not just about Donna is it? This for him as well, right? I mean, it’s unbearable, isn’t it? The thought of him, out there, all alone, because after…that, he’s not going to trust himself is he? He’s not going to trust himself to get close to anyone again, in case he loses them…” she trailed off into a whisper, her voice painfully sad.

“…He must be so lonely…” she lifted his arm over her head, snuggling into his shoulder and bringing his arm down around her.

The Doctor held her close, but felt a stab of emotion in his chest. He stared straight ahead, and felt slightly light-headed. Of course she was OK about him thinking about Donna; clearly Rose was still thinking about him.

The walls between dimensions didn’t extend through the minds of those held within them. He began to wish that they did.


	18. Unease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another the_willows chapter

The Doctor finished shaving and stood looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. The face staring back at him was disdainful, critical, searching for some flaw in the contours, a misplaced freckle, an extra line around the eyes.  
  
He could see nothing, no difference; it was identical to the face of the man who had left him behind on that beach.  
  
So it must be something about his personality.   
  
He turned from the mirror and walked back into the bedroom he occupied in the small hotel on Dartmoor.  
  
He dropped onto the bed and looked at the clock; the Torchwood team were heading off back to headquarters with the alien predator, and his car would be arriving within the hour to whisk him back to Rose.  
  
Would she be pleased to see him? He’d only been gone for a few days, but that was long enough for him to miss her. But then she was his anchor in this world, the one constant he had amongst everything.  
  
But who was he to her?  
  
He stood up again and began pacing as he put on his shirt. He couldn’t help the gnawing feeling in his stomach that hadn’t really left since Rose had let slip that she still thought about _her_ Doctor.  
  
 _He_ was her Doctor now, at least, he’d thought he was. Hoped he was. He stopped pacing and sat back down on the bed, head in hands.  
  
His interest in Donna was certainly not romantic, he missed her, but that was as much cellular as emotional; he was a part of her, to not have her around something akin to the phantom pain of a missing limb. And the exquisite irony of that association was not lost on him either.  
  
And hadn’t he owed it to his other self to give Donna back to him? He’d been given Rose, and he knew what a sacrifice that had been. Giving him back Donna was little more than a handshake in comparison.  
  
The Doctor lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Rose had only called him once since he’d been away. But then he’d called her every day himself, so that wasn’t a fair accusation.  
  
He shouldn’t doubt her feelings; she’d never given him any concrete reason to doubt her loyalty to him. But he couldn’t help wonder… when he’d found that grey hair.  
  
It was one, a single grey amongst the brown. But then that had made him realise that he really was going to age alongside Rose. And she’d see it. She’d see the face she loved become lined and worn, the hair go grey and thin, the tall frame slowly bend and crumble. Is that really what she wanted?  
  
The logical part of his brain tried in vain to remind him that Rose would be aging herself; but the emotional side that simmered with Donna’s own insecurities about her body wrestled that thought away, pinning it down beneath paranoia and mistrust.  
  
Something strange squeezed his heart, as he got up from the bed to finish packing. He tried to ignore it as he filled his bag and zipped it shut. But the feeling stayed with him, as he checked out of the hotel, during the ride back to London, and as he turned the key in the door of the flat, finding it empty.  
  
It squeezed until finally something snapped.


	19. Realisation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the_willows chapter

“Ah, Doctor,” Jack strode towards him, waving something in his hand. The Doctor looked up from the terminal he’d been working on and squinted at the object.  
  
Jack came and stood next to him, holding out the object, another artefact of some kind that had been picked up. It looked familiar, some kind of scanner maybe. He took it from Jack.  
  
“Ah, yes, well, firstly, it’s not a weapon, perfectly harmless in that respect,” he turned it over in his hands, running his long fingers over the metal. The object was cool to the touch and unnaturally smooth compared to even the smoothest earth made metal. His sensitive fingertips sought the release mechanism that would open the cylindrical device.  
  
Jack watched him; he found it endlessly fascinating and even a little thrilling when The Doctor revealed the workings of an artefact that it had taken Torchwood days, sometimes even weeks to discover.  
  
“Ah, there we go!” The Doctor beamed triumphantly as the device opened at one end like the petals of a flower, revealing a glowing light source.   
  
“Portable cellular scanner, standard field kit for serious exo-biologists.” He turned the device over in his hands with a sniff. “Should come in handy for you lot as well, just point and click.” He closed the device, flipping it over in his hand with a deft flourish and holding it out to Jack.  
  
“Yeah, we were hoping for a bit more detail? Some instructions, notes on the power source, that kind of thing?” Jack’s tone was prompting, as if encouraging a child who’d forgotten why he was supposed to be in school.  
  
“What? Oh, right…” The Doctor looked puzzled momentarily, and withdrew the object, looking at it intently again. Jack reached up and patted his shoulder.  
  
“I know, the research isn’t the fun part. Tell you what, get this one written up, and I’ll let you out on the next field trip.”  
  
The Doctor gave him a wry smile. “Will I need permission from my mum?”  
  
Jack laughed. “You can bring a packed lunch and your wellies as well. Just make sure you don’t wander off.”  
  
The Doctor gave him a grin and sat down at his desk again. Jack wandered away, feeling a twinge of guilt about keeping The Doctor cooped up again now that he’d finished his own project.   
  
Left alone again, The Doctor grabbed a pencil and began making some notes about the device. He made a rough sketch, indicating the location of the various hidden release catches, but after a few minutes, lapsed into idle doodling and then got distracted with drawing the molecular structure of the graphite he was drawing with, tweaking some atoms here and there to make a polymer.  
  
“Tea, Doctor?”  
  
He looked up, to find one of Torchwood’s young female employees bending over his desk with a mug of tea, the bright blue ceramic decorated with the words ‘Doctor of Love’, which had apparently belonged to Jack before the half human Doctor had arrived. He smiled at her, not too encouragingly, he hoped, and she set it down amongst his papers.  
  
“Thank you, Janine. Just what the Doctor ordered.” He expected her to groan at the awful pun, but instead she just giggled and left with a lingering touch of his shoulder. He sighed and took a mouthful of his tea, the drone of chatter and equipment from the surrounding workstations fading into background noise as he held up the mug and looked at the lettering.  
  
 _Doctor of Love._  
  
Well, that wasn’t him, apparently. He was aware of the sexual undertone to the phrase, and even more aware that he and Rose were not indulging in that side of their relationship.  
  
 _He must be so lonely…_  
  
That’s what she’d said. And of course, it was probably true. He had on occasion allowed himself to wonder what his other self might be doing, but not for long, he couldn’t allow himself to go there, he’d drive himself mad. Fixing Donna would hopefully absolve him from any guilt at putting the other Doctor from his mind. But would it stop Rose from thinking about him?  
  
He lingered over his tea, in no hurry to get back to the tedious task of breaking down the artefact into a bite-sized, idiot’s guide to portable scanners. Still, it was a lovely piece of equipment, real craftsmanship. He picked it up again and looked it over. Metal that smooth could only be achieved in two ways, a coating of elastomeric ductillium compound, or super-high temperature extrusion. Well, there was one simple way to find out, perhaps now was the time to indulge his new tongue.  
  
He set his mug down, scooting forward in his seat. He looked around surreptitiously, making sure no-one was paying him close attention, and then brought the scanner up to his mouth, moving his tongue along the length of the cylinder in a broad sweep.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Puzzled, he tried again, using just the tip of his tongue. Then he rolled the cylinder across the centre of his tongue.  
  
Still nothing.  
  
Just metal. A horrible, metallic taste, that was now setting his teeth on edge.  
  
He dropped the scanner onto his desk. Maybe it was the tea? Maybe this half human tongue was too easily distracted by other tastes?  
  
The Doctor stood up, quietly trying not to panic. Probably the tea, the tannin and lactic acid were probably interfering with his palate. He made his way to the edge of the room, to the water cooler, and poured himself a cup of cold water. He took a mouthful and swilled it around his teeth and tongue, dropping his head back to gargle it. A couple of colleagues walked past, giving him an odd look as he forgot himself momentarily and gargled a watery tune. He felt their eyes on him, and brought his head upright, managing a sheepish smile as he swallowed.  
  
He refilled the cup and went back to his workstation, sitting himself down determinedly. He picked up the scanner, running his tongue around his teeth a few times. He blew out his breath and then licked.  
  
Nothing. Just still that horrible metallic tang.   
  
He rummaged about on his untidy desk, finding bits of metal and plastic, and began licking them. None of them revealed anything other than they tasted pretty awful.  
  
He flew up from his chair, his heart beating wildly. It wasn’t just a half-human tongue; it was a wholly human tongue!  
  
He looked around the vast room, the cacophony of his fellow workers and their research suddenly deafening. Everywhere he looked, people were talking, in pairs, or groups, or on their headsets. People were laughing, chatting, friendly banter surrounding him, yet here he stood, alone.   
  
He picked up the scanner, and for the first time, it actually felt alien, unfamiliar. He bolted for Jack’s office.  
  
The Doctor burst through the door without knocking and Jack was on his feet before the door had barely begun to swing shut behind him. He threw the scanner onto Jack’s desk, his face dark and disdainful.  
  
“What is it Doctor?” Jack held his hands up, as if to appease a dangerous animal.   
  
“I quit,” said The Doctor, his voice measured, but with a dangerous hint of eruption.  
  
Jack eased himself out from behind his desk towards his friend, hands still held out in front of him.  
  
“OK, well, that’s a little sudden, could we maybe talk about this first?”  
  
The Doctor looked Jack in the eye; his expression telling Jack that discussion was not really on his agenda right now.  
  
“I can’t do this, Jack. I can’t be your pet scientist.”  
  
Jack took a step closer.  
  
“OK, well, I’m sorry if that’s how you feel, we can –“  
  
The Doctor cut him off.  
  
“I can’t be _her_ pet Doctor.”  
  
Jack stared at him, caught off guard.  
  
“I’m not sure what you mean.”  
  
“Rose, Jack. She wants The Doctor, she’s always wanted The Doctor. She spent her every waking moment in this universe trying to get back to him. And then he leaves her here again. With me.” He smiled bitterly, looking broken. Jack lowered his hands and closed the gap between them.  
  
“But you _are_ him, you’re The Doctor…”  
  
“No,” he said, eyes fierce. “No, I’m not. I’m only half of him, the rest of me is human, I’m only half of what she wants, I’ll never be good enough.”  
  
“No, Doctor, you’re wrong. Rose isn’t so shallow, she’s much stronger, much wiser than that.”  
  
The Doctor narrowed his eyes at Jack.  
  
“What do you know of Rose, eh? What makes you an expert on her feelings?”  
  
Jack’s gaze fell away for a moment.  
  
“I was there, remember? When she was tearing herself apart trying to get back to you. When she was a hollow, driven thing with just one goal that kept her alive through sheer force of determination. So I know plenty about Rose and her feelings, actually.”  
  
The Doctor sneered at him.  
  
“Well, you’re a better man than me then. Because all I know about Rose, is that she wants the Doctor, and that’s not me.” He gave Jack that bitter smile again, before continuing.   
  
“Oh, she plays the dutiful girlfriend, she goes through the motions, tells me she loves me. But it’s _him_ she sees when she looks at me. She stays with me because _he_ asked her to, because _he_ asked her to take in the stray mongrel that he didn’t have room for.”   
  
The Doctor was trembling now, and Jack could see tears welling in his eyes. He felt awful, he wanted to reassure his friend, but having seen Rose’s unbreakable focus on finding her Doctor again, he couldn’t help but think that what this man was saying could be true, despite wanting to have complete faith in Rose’s integrity.  
  
“Look,” began Jack, “let me get Rose up here, you two can go home and work this out…”  
  
“No. I don’t want to see her. I just want to get out of here.” The Doctor turned and walked to the door.  
  
“Let me get you a car,” offered Jack.  
  
“No. I want to walk. I need time to think. And don’t say anything to Rose,” he held up his hand, pointing a threatening finger at Jack, who held his arms up again.  
  
“Hey, fine, it’s _your_ life.”  
  
The Doctor wrenched the door open with a grimace.  
  
“That’s the problem Jack. No it isn’t.”  
  



	20. Surveillance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

As the Doctor strode purposefully down the long corridor, Jack leant out his office and grabbed the arm of his friend and colleague, Gwen Cooper, as she passed his door. She squeaked in surprise as he pulled her close and indicated that she should be silent.  
  
‘Gwen, I need a favour,’ he whispered. Gwen looked at him questioningly. ‘I need you to follow the Doctor.’  
  
Gwen’s eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. ‘Is there something wrong with him?’  
  
‘Nothing alien,’ Jack said, looking grim, ‘but yes. He’s angry and depressed and I want to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.’  
  
Gwen nodded and quickly headed out along the corridor.  
  
  
She had been tailing him for 30 minutes before he stopped moving. She’d followed him in and out of second hand bookshops and charity shops, watching as he wandered aimlessly amongst the stock; stroking the spine of a hardback here, tracing the design on a crystal glass there, before wandering back out of the shop without a purchase or a backward glance.  
  
Then they got to the park. Despite the cold weather, it was a bright day and he had wandered along the central walkway, Gwen always a few steps behind. Suddenly he dropped gracelessly onto a park bench, and Gwen ducked into a bush to stay out of sight.  
  
He sighed, closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the sun filtering through the trees. Then he spoke.  
  
‘You can come out of the bushes, Mrs Cooper,’ he said; she’d never taken her husband’s name. ‘It can’t possibly be comfortable.’  
  
Embarrassed, Gwen emerged from the bush and stepped onto the path. Without opening his eyes, the Doctor patted the space beside him.  
  
‘Have a seat.’  
  
‘I’m not used to being made,’ she commented, as she slid into place beside him.  
  
‘Well your targets aren’t usually human/Time Lord hybrids,’ he commented wryly.  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
‘I love Donna,’ he said suddenly. ‘I don’t know if I ever said that, but I do. She was a very special woman, even if she never believed it herself.’ He chuckled wryly. ‘Amazing woman. But sometimes,’ he took a deep breath, as if preparing himself for a confession, ‘sometimes I hate her.’  
  
He opened his eyes and looked at her with a pained expression.  
  
‘How do you manage that, you humans?’ he asked. ‘To love and hate someone with equal intensity at exactly the same time. Why doesn’t it pull you apart?’ He continued before Gwen could speak. ‘He was right, I suppose, full of blood and anger and revenge. That’s me.’  
  
‘But it’s not!’ Gwen finally said. He looked at her, surprised at her vehemence. ‘You’re the mildest, most calm person I’ve ever met. I’ve never seen you get mad.’  
  
He laughed. ‘I got mad today alright,’ he said. ‘I guess you missed it.’  
  
‘Why?’ she asked quietly.  
  
‘Because I’m scared,’ he said quietly. ‘Because I’m angry. At Rose, at Donna, at _him_ , at me. So much anger, so much rage. No matter what he says, it wasn’t like this with the Daleks. That was logical. They couldn’t live. But this.’ He sighed. ‘It’s all so confusing. I look like him, but I act like her. Her single heart, her human emotions, her,’ he grimaced, ‘sweat glands, but his mind. And that’s not the Doctor. That’s not the man – _I’m_ not the man – that Rose fell in love with.’  
  
He dropped his face into his hands and rubbed his eyes. Gwen frowned in concern.  
  
‘Doctor,’ he grimaced at the title, ‘maybe I should get Rose-’  
  
‘No!’ his head shot up as he looked at her desperately. ‘No, don’t tell her. I know what I need to do.’  
  
Suddenly, he leant back in the chair and smiled warmly at her.  
  
‘Don’t worry, Gwen. You can go back to the office now. Tell Jack that I’m going straight home and that I pose no threat to myself or others.’ He laughed at his phrasing. Gwen moved to stand and found her hand grasped tightly. Looking down she found him staring at her, all humour gone from his eyes. ‘You _can’t_ tell her, Gwen. Please.’  
  
She wavered. How had he known she was intending to call Rose as soon as she got back?  
  
‘I know what I’m doing. Don’t tell her.’  
  
Gwen nodded and he released her hand. She stood up and headed back along the path.   
  
When she reached the entrance to the park, she turned back and saw him, shoulders slumped, wandering down the path back to his home.


	21. I'm Not Him

Rose pushed open the heavy front door to their flat, surprised to find it unlocked since the windows were dark. Making her way through to the living room, she was bemused to find the Doctor sitting in the dark, long legs propped up on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles, exactly the same position as she had seen him in so many times in the past.  
  
Shrugging off her handbag, she moved over to the couch and snapped on the console coloured lamp, that the Doctor had bought after insisting that all her lights were too pale and bright. The movement, and sudden illumination, made the Doctor register her presence, but he made no move to look at her or talk to her, not even making room for her to snuggle next to him on the couch as he usually did.  
  
Perching on the couch arm, she leaned over and tried to kiss him. With his head thrown back against the sofa, it was easy enough, but his response was absent, and distant, and after a second she pulled back, realising that this was more than just forgetting to turn the lights on because he was mulling over some puzzle. His hair was wild, as if he’d been tugging at it and his wide, expressive brown eyes were dark and empty.  
  
She reached out and stroked his hair. ‘What’s wrong Doct-’  
  
‘Don’t call me that,’ he interrupted sharply, his voice hoarse with abuse. He’d been shouting, then. ‘I’m not the Doctor,’ he added, his voice quieter now, more a whisper than a shout, ‘I’m not _him_.’  
  
He turned his head towards her and she saw, in the warm orange light, the tracks of tears shed and dried long ago.  
  
‘Budge up,’ she said lightly, scared by the dull look in his normally bright eyes. Reluctantly he shifted over, grunting as his muscles protested movement after being stuck in the same position for so long. Lifting his arm, she snuggled against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and resting her cheek on his chest. Immediately he stood, distancing himself from her. Hurt, she curled up on the sofa, pulling her arms and legs in tight, and hugging her knees as she watched him. ‘What happened?’ she asked.  
  
‘I licked an artefact,’ he muttered dully.  
  
Rose laughed, ‘Is that all? You lick things all the time.’  
  
‘No,’ he said fervently, ‘not in this body. I’ve been trying to fit in, no licking things,’ he added and she realised that in all the time since their return from Norway she had never seen him lick something that wasn’t food.  
  
‘What’s wrong then? Did they make fun of you?’ She couldn’t imagine that they would, or that the Doctor would be bothered if they did, but what else could have made him so unhappy?  
  
A wry grin twisted his lips in a parody of his usual smile. ‘No, they didn’t make fun of me.’ He was quiet again, and Rose could think of nothing else to say. Suddenly he took a deep breath as if preparing himself for something awful. ‘I licked the artefact,’ he said, ‘and nothing happened.’  
  
‘What?’ Rose asked, confused.  
  
‘Nothing!’ he repeated stridently, pacing now. ‘I couldn’t _taste_ anything, just metal. And it hit me, I’m not him. I may look like him, I may walk like him, but I’m not. No two hearts, no extra sensory perception, no control over my sweat glands.’ The Doctor grimaced. Finding out that this body would perspire, at a normal human rate but perspire nonetheless, had deeply disgusted him. ‘Even my hair’s not right because all the gel is on HIS SHIP!’ he was shouting now. ‘I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO!’ he cried. Then he caught sight of her, still huddled on the sofa, and all the fight went out of him. ‘I can’t be him,’ he whispered desperately. ‘I’ve tried, _oh god_ , I’ve tried. But I’m not him. I can’t help Torchwood, and I can’t be the man you want.’ Turning away from her, he began to make his way to the door. It was only when she heard the front door close behind him that she realised what he was saying. He was leaving! Leaving her, all because he couldn’t tell where something came from with his bloody taste buds.  
  
Rose flung herself off their couch, moving faster than she ever had without the threat of imminent death. She pounded down the stairwell hitting the ground floor just in time to see the building door was slipping shut. She barrelled along the corridor and yanked open the door, pulling so hard that it banged against the wall. But Rose didn’t hear; she was already racing down the front path, after the tall, skinny, hunched-over figure in the crumpled blue suit.  
  
‘Oi!’ she called, unsure what to call him, since “Doctor” seemed to hurt him so much. He froze at her voice, which at least gave her time to reach him. She stood in front of him, grabbing his hands and holding them tight, just as he had on Bad Wolf Bay. Breathing heavily, she managed to say. ‘So you’re not him. That’s okay, be someone else. Be _you_.’ He looked at her, a faint hope flickering in his eyes, despite his resolve to let her go. ‘And whoever that is,’ she continued, eyes never leaving his, ‘whoever you turn out to be, _that’s_ the man I need.’ When he still could do no more than look at her, she tutted and stepped forward, wrapping her arms tightly around him and pressing her lips to his, pouring strength and encouragement, and _love_ into the kiss, everything she could do to convince him to stay. After a second she felt him respond, his arms reaching up to wrap around her, lifting her off her feet as he squeezed her to him, trying to get rid of any space between them.  
  
When he finally let her go, they were both smiling. Suddenly Rose started to shiver. ‘You had to pick the middle of winter to have an emotional crisis,’ she muttered, smiling as he reached out to cuddle her to him just as she’d known he would.  
  
‘Come on,’ he said quietly, let’s go home.’  
  
As they made their way back to the flat, Rose said, ‘I think the first thing to do is pick a name. I can’t call you “oi” all the time.’  
  
He smiled and looked down at her. ‘I’ll get right on that,’ he murmured, pressing a grateful kiss to the top of her head. Rose grinned.  
  
  
  



	22. Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

Suddenly weary, Rose headed for the bedroom to get ready for bed. The Doct- _he_ wandered into the kitchen, starting to make tea without needing to check that she’d want some. After such an important conversation, discussing minutiae seemed wrong, and they moved in a slightly awkward silence, afraid to disturb the fragile harmony of their reconciliation.  
  
  
Shutting the bedroom door behind her, Rose opened her bottom drawer to get a new sleepshirt, and saw a shiny lilac triangle poking out from beneath the pile. Lifting the t-shirts, she reached in and removed the garment, letting it fall open as she let go of the t-shirt pile.  
  
It was a long satiny nightie, very unlike her normal sleepwear, with a low cut lacy collar and thin satin straps. It was long – holding it against herself she found that it came almost to her ankles – but a lace-edged slit had been cut up either side to knee height to allow ease of movement. It had been a present from her mum, pressed into her suitcase while _he_ was somewhere else, another Jackie-hint that the two of them should be “closer” than they were.  
  
Holding it up in front of her, Rose contemplated wearing it. She rubbed her thumbs over the straps, traced the line of the lace, stroked the slippery satin skirt. Finally, she laid the nightie on the bed and pulled off her t-shirt; she needed something pretty to wear tonight.  
  
  
She was just putting her dirty clothes in the laundry basket when she heard a muttering on the other side of the closed door. There was a scuffling sound and then a yelp of pain. Frowning, Rose straightened up and stealthily made her way along the edge of the bedroom, looking for something to disable whichever alien was attempting to capture _him_.  
  
Then a plaintive voice called, ‘Rose?’  
  
She paused; he didn’t normally call her to get involved in these things. Despite her continual insistence that she was trained to handle these situations – a statement that seemed less convincing when she was weaponless and wearing a thin wisp of satin – he was most likely to keep quiet or warn her to run.  
  
‘Doc-’ she winced, ‘Yes?’  
  
‘Can you open the door, please?’ he asked, his voice tight with pain. ‘Only I don’t seem to have enough hands, or, well, appendages, I suppose. There are some species that make do very well with just two arms and a tail. So, if I had a tail, I probably wouldn’t need that extra-’  
  
She opened the door to find him standing in the doorway holding a cup of tea in each hand and looking awkward.  
  
‘arm,’ he murmured softly, taking in the sight of her.  
  
As his gaze drifted from the soft white lace along her collar bone to the unadorned hem still swirling from her steps, Rose felt a blush rise in her cheeks. It’d been a long time since she’d made any man speechless.  
  
Suddenly he hissed, brought out of his trance by the pain that had caused him to yelp earlier.  
  
‘Can you just,’ he held out the mugs and she lifted them out of his hands, holding one carefully, and taking a calming sip from the other - she needed something to steady her racing heartbeat – as he thanked her absently and dashed into the bathroom to run cold water over one hand. ‘Scalded myself trying to open the door,’ he called. ‘You know, I don’t mean to criticise any part of the tea making and serving process,’ he continued over the sound of the running water, ‘but tea mugs really are badly designed for sharing a pot of tea.  
  
‘Yeah?’ Rose called, setting the tea cups on the vanity table and fetching the burn cream and a piece of sterile gauze.  
  
‘It’s really a rather selfish design,’ he was saying, wandering out of the bathroom with a towel pressed against his hand.  
  
‘C’mere,’ Rose said, removing the towel and squirting some of the burn cream onto his hand. There was silence for a moment as she gently rubbed the cream into his skin, tracing soft circles with her fingers. ‘Selfish,’ she said after a moment, reaching for the gauze.  
  
‘Right,’ he murmured, watching as she gently laid the gauze over the hot skin and neatly cut strips of adhesive tape to hold it in place. ‘You saw me, I can hold two mugs but I can’t open any doors, and there’s no way to hold three. What you really need,’ he continued softly, ‘is some kind of inter-locking design to make them fit more snugly,’ she looked up as he finished, ‘together,’ and found her glib response dying in her throat as she took in the dark gaze trained on her.  
  
For a moment, neither of them spoke, then he cleared his throat loudly and said, ‘I should…get changed,’ he gestured to the bathroom, ‘do my teeth, you know. You can’t put a price on good dental hygiene.’ Rose nodded dazedly as he grabbed his pyjamas and retreated to the bathroom.  
  
‘Mmhmm,’ she said quietly, tidying up the vanity table and going to the kitchen to wash the burn cream off her fingers. As she went, she found herself absently rubbing the tips of her fingers together and smiling.


	23. First and Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a the_willows chapter

Rose snuggled up next to the Doctor in bed as they always did. But now he wasn't the Doctor, he was someone else; same body, same person inside, well mostly, this sudden crisis made her wonder if he might change in other ways. But now the name would be gone, and Rose couldn't help but feel a sense of loss.  
  
Neither of them could fall asleep right away, and they both lay wrapped up in each other's arms, the bedside light still lit on Rose's side, which gave the room a soft cosy glow, as they both wandered off into their own thoughts brought about by the Doctor's revelation.  
  
No, he's not the Doctor any more.  
  
Rose suddenly clutched at him more tightly, and he turned his head towards her.  
  
‘What's wrong?’ he asked softly, sensing a tension in her. Rose lifted her head, and he saw silent tears shimmering across her cheeks. The Doctor turned completely onto his side to face her gathering her to him tightly, fearful that his earlier outburst had affected her more deeply than he'd realised. ‘Oh no, Rose, please, don't, I'm so sorry,’ he began, but she made a little half sobbed laughing sound, bringing her hand up to put a finger to his soft lips to quiet him.  
  
‘No, sorry, it's not you, really, It's me, I'm just being...silly.’ She closed her eyes, embarrassed suddenly under the gaze from those soulful brown eyes. He kissed her finger and reached up to draw her hand away and into his, entwining their fingers affectionately.  
  
‘Whatever it is, it's not silly, you're never silly. Well, except when we both are, but then that's allowed,’ he grinned at her, and she opened her eyes, smiling back and planting a kiss on his collar bone. ‘Oh, that's nice,’ he said, enjoying the sensation, and Rose delivered another exquisite press of her full lips to the skin on his neck. ‘That really is very, very nice...’ he murmured, giving in to the pleasure of such a small, but intimate gesture.  
  
‘Feels pretty good at my end too,’ said Rose softly, lifting her head to meet his gaze, her hazel eyes dark with some unspoken intent.  
  
The Doctor let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her, curling his legs up towards her. Rose slipped a hand beneath his arm to stroke his cheek lovingly, their eyes locking briefly before they found each other's lips. They began a slow, tender, and almost forgiving kiss, Rose bringing her own leg up, slowly caressing the Doctor's with it, before lifting it up across his thighs.  
  
He let out an appreciative rumble against her lips, moving a hand now to run it over the smooth satin of her nightdress, enjoying the warmth of her body through the sensual fabric.  
  
The kiss became more intense, and it seemed that their limbs took on a life of their own, embracing, caressing, moving gently against each other, soft sighs escaping from Rose, and deep moans from the Doctor.  
  
Rose's hand wandered across his hip, snaking its way up his back towards his shoulder, and then slid purposefully down again, finding the round of his bottom, tracing its shape before her fingers sought out the waistband of his pyjama trousers, breaching their defences.   
  
As her hot hand made contact with the skin at the top of his thigh, the Doctor's back arched, almost in shock, and he broke the kiss with a gasp, his face flushed. Rose, reading his reaction as a green light, followed the arch of his neck with her lips and teeth as her hand moved round and lower into the crisp cotton fabric.  
  
Suddenly, she was sprawled on her back, and the Doctor was off the bed, clutching a great swathe of the quilt across his lower body. Rose stared at him, shell-shocked; the move had been so fast she'd barely had time to register what was happening in her aroused state.  
  
He backed away from her a couple of feet, holding out the free hand defensively as if to ward her off, his eyes wide and fearful, his diaphragm plunging in and out rapidly with ragged breaths.  
  
Rose rolled onto her knees and crawled towards his side of the bed. ‘What the hell was that?’ she asked, eyes wide and almost disdainful.  
  
He backed away further, pulling the quilt right off the bed. ‘No, Rose, I'm sorry, don't, please, stay away, there's something wrong.’ He swallowed nervously, his back now against the bedroom door.  
  
Rose arched an eyebrow, and ignored his plea, reaching the edge of the bed and standing, her long satin nightdress dropping to her ankles.  
  
‘Er, did I miss something? I mean, we were in the same moment, right?’ she gestured back and forth between them to indicate the parties she deemed present, as for now it seemed to have escaped his attention.  
  
‘No, Rose, you don't understand, there's something wrong with me, my...m-my...’ he stumbled over the words, his eyes now pleading.  
  
‘What, what's wrong?’ Rose took a step towards him, concerned now by the helplessness on his face.  
  
‘I-I... please, Rose, help me...’ his defensive hand now became one reaching out for her, and she took it coming now to stand with him, embracing him, though he didn't let go of the quilt. He clung to her with his free arm, and she nestled against him, feeling the tension start to flow from him. She stood on tiptoes to kiss his neck, and then found herself on her back on the bed again, and the Doctor looking wild and fearful once more. ‘NO!’ he cried doubling over, and Rose hauled herself from the bed and flung herself down on the floor beside him.  
  
‘What's wrong? Doc- no, _sorry_ , please, tell me, what's wrong?’  
  
He slid down the door until he was sitting on the carpet, the quilt bunched between his legs. Looking thoroughly miserable, he slowly lifted the mass of fabric to reveal the source of his worry.  
  
Rose’s hand flew to her mouth to suppress the rising giggle.   
  
‘Um, I don't want to scare you or anything,’ she began, putting on her best solemn face, ‘but what you've got there is a bad, and,’ she tilted her head appreciatively, ‘actually quite _impressive_ case of The Perfectly Normal.’  
  
She bit her lip as she finished speaking to stave off the urge to laugh at the look on his poor, bewildered face.  
  
‘But it's... _really_?’ he asked, incredulous.  
  
‘Uh-huh,’ replied Rose, kneeling up in front of him. ‘I guess Time Lords didn't...?’ She looked at him expectantly.  
  
He drew the quilt back over his lap, Rose made a stunning sight on her knees in that satin gown, the fabric clinging to her slender frame, its thin straps barely there, all it would take is a sharp tug at them...  
  
‘NO!’ he brought his knees up sharply to his chest, no longer looking frightened, but definitely looking shocked.  
  
‘What?’ she reached out a hand and he looked at it like he'd never seen it before.  
  
‘In my head, these thoughts, I don't know where they're coming from, about...about you, and... and _things_ and your straps and...’  
  
‘Again, that's normal,’ she laughed softly, shaking her head.  
  
‘But I never...not before...not, not him...’  
  
Rose cleared her throat, ‘Well it wasn't for a lack of me trying.’ He almost looked appalled. ‘Yeah, thanks,’ she shot back sarcastically.  
  
‘You would try and make… you wanted to, you wanted _me_ to...?’  
  
Rose curled back onto her bottom and scooted over to sit beside him.  
  
‘Well, _yeah_ , I mean look at you, you're bloody gorgeous!’ She nudged him, and his serious face broke into a grin.  
  
‘Yeah,’ he said, suddenly taken with reminiscence, gazing off into space.  
  
‘Um, meanwhile, back in the room?’ she nudged him, and he snapped out of it. ‘Look,’ began Rose, linking an arm through his, ‘I know it must be difficult, human biology and that, like needing sleep and food - _proper_ food,’ she emphasised when he opened his mouth to interject, remembering his enamel-melting sweet tooth. ‘But we also need this, we need, intimacy, closeness, affection,’ this time he did manage to interrupt her.  
  
‘We _had_ all those, we _have_ all those, I've never been closer to someone than I have with you, I mean back then, when I was...him.’  
  
‘Yeah, I know, we were close, but humans want more, we need more, we need... _sex_.’ She looked away from him suddenly embarrassed.  
  
‘I thought you didn't want that from me,’ he said softly.  
  
Rose's head snapped round to face him. ‘What? Why would you think that? Of course I do!’  
  
He stared straight ahead, swallowing. ‘But you haven't...we haven't...I thought you couldn't bring yourself to, because, because... I'm not him.’ he turned to look at her, his eyes mournful. Rose felt a sharp stab of pity.  
  
‘Do you know why I was crying earlier?’ she said softly, laying her head on his shoulder.  
  
‘Because I frightened you earlier, thinking I was running away?’  
  
‘No, that's not why. I was grieving.’  
  
He lifted his arm to wrap it around her, pulling the quilt up around them as they huddled together on the floor. He said nothing, sensing she needed to talk.  
  
‘You're right, of course, you're absolutely right, you're not him, because you're part Donna, part human. But you're still the Doctor; you'll always be the Doctor. It's the only name I've ever known you by. And if you surrender that name...’ she tried to wriggle even closer to him, even though she was as close as she could get. ‘I love you, you know, I love the Doctor, whether he's a lying-about-his-age Time Lord,’ he made a disapproving noise, ‘or a brand new part-human biological anomaly. And once you leave that name behind, I... I don't know, I'll miss that.’  
  
He squeezed her affectionately. ‘I'm making no sense at all here, am I?’ she muttered, ‘No, don't answer that. I just wanted... tonight, just once, for the first and last time... I wanted to... to...’ she looked down at her toes peeping out from under the quilt.  
  
‘To what, Rose?’ he asked, his voice strong again, steady, measured as if he knew the answer already.  
  
She turned towards him, and he shifted to look at her, his eyes calm, and filled with relief and perhaps, she hoped, understanding.  
  
‘To make love to the Doctor,’ she whispered, tears now brimming in her beautiful eyes.  
  
He leaned over to kiss her tears away, a feather-light touch of his lips to each eye. Throwing the quilt off them, he pushed himself up from the floor, and then offered her his hand. Gratefully she took it, allowing him to pull her up. They moved silently to stand by the bed, and turned to face each other. The Doctor leaned down and kissed Rose, their lips moving gently, almost chastely. When they parted, he took the straps of her nightdress in his fingers and gently lowered them off her shoulders, her trembling matching his own.  
  
‘Be gentle with me Rose,’ he said, a warm grin spreading across his smooth freckled cheeks. She lifted her hands to his chest, feeling the single heart begin to speed up at her touch, her own smile warm and welcoming.  
  
‘I love you, Doctor,’ she said, tears pricking her eyes; she knew those four words would never leave her lips again.  
  
‘First and last time?’ he asked, searching her eyes with his own once more.  
  
‘First and last time,’ she nodded, and he let her gown slip to the floor.


	24. After Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is one of a collection of chapters written as "Between the Scenes" inserts for the regular chapters. It's not necessary to have read these in order to read the other chapters, but it is necessary to have read the other chapters in order to understand these ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter by the_willows

He lay there in their semi-dark bedroom, eyes adjusting to the soft glow from the digital clock and the straining light from the streetlamps trying to break through the thin weave of the curtain fabric.  
  
Rose had gone to sleep not long after they’d reluctantly disentangled themselves, he smiled in the dim light remembering the human tendency to accuse the men of just rolling over and going to sleep. But the poor girl was emotionally exhausted after the last tortuous few hours, and it was that which had drawn her into sleep.  
  
He rolled over gently and placed a soft kiss on her naked shoulder, enjoying the soft sigh it elicited. Rose really did make the most exquisite noises.  
  
Laying back on the pillow, sleepy but also oddly excited, the man now officially no longer the Doctor stared at the shapes on the ceiling made by the streetlamps, and mulled over what had happened, his human male side subconsciously forming a soppy grin on his face.  
  
 _He’d made love to Rose!_  
  
Although, to be absolutely fair, it had been a mutual act, Rose had been a very willing participant and, true to her word, had been very gentle with him, and very patient.   
  
He let out a sigh of contentment.  
  
It wasn’t that he’d never done it before; it would have been a very tough 900 odd years if he’d never been in love and never expressed the physical side of it. But it had been a long time, and to know that this time, he and his partner would be together, forever, well that put a whole different spin on it.   
  
It hadn’t been perfect, but then, was it ever? Was anyone’s first time together perfect? But it certainly hadn’t been awful, it had been… he wondered briefly if he should be analysing the moment at all, but his brain was still whirring even as his body was starting to give in to sleep, so he allowed it the indulgence.  
  
It had been mind blowing.  
  
Not in a Hollywood, epic love story style; no fireworks and synchronised culminations, (no wonder poor Donna was so insecure, she really had held out hopes for love to be that way). No, it had been the fact that before they had shared that intimacy, Rose had shown him that she finally understood his fears, and had left him with the certainty that she was his and he was hers, and that the Doctor was safely locked away, not only in another universe, but also in a corner of her mind and not her heart.  
  
Not once had she forgot herself in the complete abandonment of her passion and cried out that name, whereas he had whispered hers over and over like a mantra, worshipping her complete acceptance of him as his own person at last.  
  
And the look in her eyes when he tipped her over the edge, as she’d grabbed his face, forcing him to look into her eyes at that moment of release, that had seared her promise onto his soul with the power of a million suns:  
  
 _We belong._


End file.
